


A Study in Minor

by av_versiera



Category: K-pop, Super Junior
Genre: M/M, Music, Romance, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship, chopininspired, composingmusic, rachmaninovreferences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-04 03:49:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20464538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/av_versiera/pseuds/av_versiera
Summary: Lee Donghae, a renowned pianist and composer, became a music professor in a prestigious university. After so many achievements and awards, Donghae grows jaded from all the recognition since it did not mean anything to him, and has stopped making music. He tells himself that he's okay with guiding promising students so that they can be great someday, until he meets Lee Hyukjae, the fire to fuel his greatest composition of all time.





	1. I. Overture

When Donghae heard his name called out in a grandiose voice, like someone may have just announced a royal, he slowly stood up with a neutral smile on his face. The audience around him-professors, famous artists, renowned musicians and conductors-exploded in applause. Donghae walked towards the stage with the blinding lights swimming around him, but all the noise and colors have blended to the background, dull and faded, like he’s underwater and someone slapped a vintage filter on the scene. He finally made it to the front without tripping, and he used the smile that he knew everyone likes. He swallowed his nervousness-it never gets easy-feeling like the suit he’s wearing right now is too tight on him, even though it was custom made. A mic was shoved towards his way, accompanied by the sudden smell of flowers, and suddenly, both of his hands and arms are full. 

Donghae can only grin, but his dark brown eyes do not share the same sentiment. “Thank you all so much, it is an honor to receive this prestigious award…” 

His eyes wander down to the audience, while he spewed grateful words that he doesn’t really fully feel. The audience stared back at him uniformly, their jewelries twinkling and cameras flashing bright on his face. He finishes his speech, and bows right after, and when he stepped down from the stage, the audience cheered for him again. If he was younger, Donghae would have basked in the attention. He is at his prime. He is great. He has everything a man could probably dream of.

However, when he looks at the sea of dark faces around him, all he feels is a coldness settling in his heart. Most of these people do not know him. They clap for his achievements, but when he turns his back, some may even speak of him with scorn. These people only sees him for what he gives to the world.

Donghae goes back to his seat, and carefully places the heavy award on the table. One of his seat mates and also one of his acquaintances, Cho Kyuhyun, leans over and gives him a big grin. 

“Congratulations,” he tells him. 

They all stand again as another name is called. Donghae stands with careful control, and he smiles back to Kyuhyun. “Thank you.”

They sit back down, and become aware of cameras going their way. 

“There’s a celebration tonight, at one of my friend’s club.” Kyuhyun gives him a plastic smile. “And don’t worry, it’s high class, and up to your taste.”

Usually, Donghae isn’t up for these kinds of things, and he would ignore that classist tone that everyone around him seems to hold when talking to him. He much rather stay inside his house, and enjoy being alone, but that’s the thing. He’s alone. 

“Sure,” Donghae agrees. 

Donghae can still hear it. The way those people clapped for him that it almost deafened him, the way they stood up where their chairs were pushed back. He sees them with tears in their eyes, a wonderful, shiny gaze directed towards him. Donghae can feel the exuberance of their cheers, filling the concert hall so loudly that Donghae forgets for a moment that he was himself. He loved this, of course. He wanted his music to touch people’s hearts-and that’s what he had accomplished, but he’s up here on the stage, while he gazes upon a sea of them. When he exits and goes backstage, his euphoria leaves him so suddenly that it drains him, plunging him into a dark hole, where he is all alone. 

How could he have everything and nothing at the same time?

He lived for music. He lived for it everyday, but it was too late for him to notice that it was slowly leaving him. He didn’t know when it had started. He was happy in the beginning. He enjoyed writing music compositions one after another. He loved staying late just to finish writing down the next note, and bringing it to life on the piano. 

He was great. 

He is still great, he supposes, but he doesn’t hold that opinion in his heart anymore. He just let the people drag him around, because in the end, they will make him disappear, just as how they brought his name up in lights. 

He can only hear the applause which drowns out the music in his head, and ever since he can remember, he couldn’t hear those notes anymore. He couldn’t draw them out anymore, and see them floating just above his head. He has been milked dry, and he allowed it to happen. He couldn’t even fight for himself. He just let them demand more of himself even though there is nothing more he can give. He had been forced to keep up an appearance that was nowhere near his true self, and now, he wonders, if his music has ever been his. 

Donghae leaves that award ceremony feeling drained more than usual, and he actually looks forward to going to the club Kyuhyun is inviting him to. He hasn’t been in one for a while, since those are way past his days. He’s a little apprehensive given that he’s almost thirty-four, and he doesn’t really know what to expect when he gets there. He stays silent, following Kyuhyun as he passes through tables, making small talks. Finally, they arrive by the bar, and Donghae orders his drink. He sits down on one of the stools, ignoring the endless chatter around him. Everywhere he looks, he sees people in sophisticated clothing. This club is more of a gala than a club. He expected more dancing, and more people on the dance floor. 

Kyuhyun orders him another drink, and then gets swept up by another conversation. Donghae wants to leave but ends up staying with empty glasses starting to line up next to each other in front of him. He was almost out of it that he can barely put words to his thoughts, it was just swimming around in his head.

Donghae holds a new drink on his hand which had magically appeared-or maybe he ordered it- when he spots a young, lanky man in casual clothes, face flushed and hair messy among the crowd. He looks around excitedly, running all over the place, and finally, Donghae finds him staring his way. 

Kyuhyun is nowhere to be seen when the young man slides next to him, his eyes sparkling like a million stars, and Donghae wants to run. Those eyes held expectations and happiness. If Donghae utters a word, he would reveal his true self, and he would see this boy disappointed. 

However, why would he care now? Donghae assumes this young man is just a fan of him. 

“Hi, I’m Lee Hyukjae,” he introduces, offering a hand. 

Donghae only stares at it, his body feeling like lead. 

“I’m a big fan, sir, and I’m so excited to be your student in the new semester,” Hyukjae chirps, his shoulders raising and pulling together in giddiness. 

“Ah, you’re a student,” Donghae concludes stupidly. His mind is pleasantly numb.

“Yes, I’m very thrilled!” 

Donghae studies his small face, and his careful, carved out features under the blue light of the bar. His eyes are round and large, and his lips juts out, pink against his pale skin.

“So, I know this is very forward of me, but I made some compositions, and I would like your opinion on them,” Hyukjae babbles. “Do you have office hours for tutoring?” 

Donghae tries to shake himself out of his state, so he turns away before he gets caught for staring too long. A long time ago, he might have felt flattered when someone gushes over his music, but now, all he feels is dread. 

“Sir? I would really like it if you become my mentor,” Hyukjae bravely proposes. 

“No,” Donghae grunts out. 

“I’m sorry?”

“I said no,” Donghae finalizes. “If you’re a student, you’ll know there will be other students with you, and I don’t have the time to teach you individually.”

“Oh,” Hyukjae deadpans. “But if you could just take a look-“

“No.”

Hyukjae sighs, a sign of building impatience. “Please?” He tries again.

Donghae glances at Hyukjae again, but it was a mistake. He couldn’t make himself turn away from him. There’s something about his eyes that were full of zeal, the way his eyebrows go up to his forehead and the way the light on his face really brings out the life in him. Donghae used to be like that, and he thinks, if he says yes to him that he will ruin this boy. 

Donghae raises his drink towards the general direction of his face, but Hyukjae grabs it away from him.

“Sir.”

Donghae figures there was no getting rid of this boy until he gets a yes, so he did what any other person would do. He would lie. 

“If you leave me alone, I’ll teach you a thing or two,” Donghae says, but the moment his words came out of his mouth, he forgets them. He did not have any intention of following through. 

Hyukjae grins, and Donghae’s heart squeezes from it. He quickly tears himself away from the sight, and downs the glass of alcohol in front of him. When he sensed that Hyukjae wasn’t anywhere near him anymore, he orders one more glass. 

Donghae wakes up to an expensive phone call, a very demanding one at that. Choi Siwon’s cheerful and motivating voice was the first thing he hears, accompanied by a raging headache from his temples. Donghae can only groan, and one of his first thoughts were why did Choi Siwon choose a publishing profession when his voice could easily be mistaken as a businessman or politician? 

Donghae rolls around his bed, his phone lazily pressed against his ear. He is not feeling it right now, but then again, when will he feel it again?

“Hello, Donghae? My genius composer, and great best friend, Lee Donghae?” Siwon cheerfully greets. 

To which Donghae answers, “Fuck.”

“Hey!”

“No.”

Siwon sighs. “How are you?”

“The same.”

Siwon chuckles, awfully cheerful.

Donghae glances at the time. Whatever Siwon is having, he would like three shots of it. 

“So when are you going to start writing music again?” Siwon asks in a discreet, but demanding tone. 

“Never,” Donghae says, tired of hearing the same question over and over. 

Siwon chuckles. “Come on. You say that, but the next thing you know, you’re going to be writing another award-winning piece.”

Donghae wants to bang his head on a wall, partly because of the headache. A huge part of it is Choi Siwon and his reassuring smile, and his eyes that look at him with belief. 

“I’m happy teaching right now,” Donghae finally says, deciding to leave it open-ended. Right now in Siwon’s definition is soon. 

Siwon sighs. “All right, Donghae. Have a good day.”

Donghae lies in his bed for a few more hours, waiting until his headache subsides. When the squeezing feeling has gone and he can think clearly, Donghae searches for a music composition notebook, and drags himself outside of his room. He takes his time, making small, sleepy steps towards the grand piano in his minimalist style living room, where the furniture were sparse and the couches unoccupied. When he finally settled himself on the piano’s seat, he stares into space. His hands lingered just above the keys, where he once created beautiful masterpieces. 

Nothing comes to him. He could no longer hear the music-they were long drowned out by the crowd. He could no longer feel it move inside his body, and see it come into play into paper. 

Out of frustration, Donghae bangs his fist on the keys, and he turns his back away from it. Sure, he can follow music pieces and play them perfectly, but he will never be the same as before. 

Henry, his teacher assistant, comes in early with him, carrying two cups of hot coffee. He offers one to Donghae, and the professor accepts it graciously. The two of them made their way towards their classroom, with Henry catching Donghae up with his summer vacation where he played with a string orchestra group somewhere in Italy. Donghae listens half-heartedly, nodding at some professors and students who comes their way. When they finally arrive in their classroom, Donghae takes his time arranging his folders on his desk, and setting up his laptop. He stares at the empty classroom, his eyes studying the rows of unoccupied chairs, set up in levels that go high up. Light filters in from the high windows, making the place look like it’s been left behind by time. 

Henry slides up a stack of papers in front of him. “The syllabus.”

Donghae nods. “Thank you.” He checks the time on his watch, the expensive leather straps enclosed around his wrist. 

Henry gestures at the piano. “We still have time to kill.”

Donghae lets out a little laugh as Henry pulls a sheet music from one of the cabinets against the wall. 

“This one is Chopin,” Henry announces. “Your favorite.”

Donghae rolls his eyes. “Just don’t mess up.”

Henry smiles cheekily. “What do you mean? I’m perfect!”

Donghae walks across the stage and towards the piano, and plops himself on the seat. He opens the sheet music that Henry pulled up, and posies his hands on top of the keys. Behind him, Henry has his violin on his shoulder, his body in a clean and straight line, and he prepares with his bow raised up high in the air sophisticatedly. Donghae hits the first note, a deep, rumbling G sharp, then he moves to the introduction, measure after measure, following each crescendo and trickle of high notes that sounds like the wind rushing. Henry plays and follows by ear, this particular talent that made the university notice him. 

Pretty soon, students are coming in one by one, watching the beautiful duo on the stage. Their mouths are agape, their eyes alight with wonder. 

Donghae’s focus is completely taken up by each page of the music he’s playing. He can play any of these pieces perfectly. He had studied them for so many late nights, he will never forget every technicality. Of course, someone who doesn’t play won't notice the difference. They’re always listening to what sounds good. 

Among the students, was Hyukjae, with his loose, too long pants, button up shirt folded up all the way to his elbows, an open vest to top it off. His hair is stuck up in all directions, and his glasses occasionally slides down to the tip of his nose, requiring him to push it back with a semi-closed fist. His shoulder bag is slung over his shoulder, creased papers shoved inside it properly so that it wouldn’t fall off. Hyukjae finds a seat somewhere in the middle row, though he would probably have seated himself closer if the front rows weren’t filled. 

Donghae finishes the piece with a grandiose show of his hands, and the classroom erupted into applause. Henry bows, and so does Donghae. 

Donghae greets his new students, and he bows slightly. As he straightened himself up, he finds himself staring into a set of familiar dark eyes, right there, in the middle row, where his own eyes can easily rest. He remembers the snatched drink inside the blue-lighted club, and his face alight with excitement. He remembers his name. 

“The syllabus is being passed around right now,” Donghae begins, not taking his eyes off Hyukjae. “This will cover everything we will do for the rest of the year, although some may change along the way. You will all compose a piece by the end of the year and perform it in a recital.” 

He finally looks away, but found that he couldn’t look at anything in particular. 

“Anyways, all the requirements are in the syllabus. No plagiarism in papers, and in compositions. If I find out, and I will find out, because I’ve played many pieces,” Donghae says, and some people in the class chuckled. “I will personally see you out of this program.”

Donghae proceeds to discuss the syllabus, and since it’s the first day, he tries to get acquainted with his class. He helps them get set up with a portfolio that they will build up along the year, and then Henry passes up some papers that they will also need to fill up. After getting the discussion of the syllabus out of the way, Donghae allows the students to display their talents on the stage to gauge where everyone is at. Some were at the beginner level, and some were geniuses, having played for years. 

When Hyukjae comes up to the stage, Donghae keeps his face blank. He watches him intently as his pale hands cover the keys of the piano perfectly. He plays Chopin’s Waltz in A Minor, each note a light grace, like walking on a field of grass with wind blowing through hair. Donghae is spinning, but his mind is sent to a peaceful place, but it was over before Donghae can fully bask into the music, and as he leaves the stage, Donghae suddenly wants to demand him to play the same song. 

However, he only shakes his head at himself.

At the end of class, the people chattered noisily, but Hyukjae stays a little behind, hoping to catch Donghae. He wants to get an answer from him, a proper one, where he’s not nursing a drink. Donghae and Henry were talking about something, when Hyukjae comes up to them, shoulder bag across his chest with his pale fingers gripping the strap. 

Henry stalks away, muttering something about his violin, and Donghae raises an eyebrow at Hyukjae. 

“Professor, do you remember me?” Hyukjae says.

Donghae glances at him, indifferent. 

“You said you’ll be my mentor,” Hyukjae adds, his voice sounding lonely in the empty classroom.

Donghae arranges his face into a stern look. “Are you serious?”

Hyukjae blinks.

“Are you that selfish? I have a class to teach. If you want to learn, go get a piano teacher,” Donghae snaps. 

Hyukjae is taken aback. 

Donghae feels bad when the younger looked hurt. He was selfish once, and look where it got him. 

Hyukjae ignores the bite of his words. “There is no one like you.”

Donghae’s face falls apart. “I said no.”

Hyukjae nods, then stalks away. His jaw grits stubbornly, with tears forming in his eyes, and Donghae sees this. He senses his selfishness for music, his determination to only get its purest form. Donghae was like this, once. 

He feels bad for hurting him, and he was about to offer an apology, but he lets him go, his footsteps echoing out into the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Overture" means beginning. This can be seen in many music compositions, especially in orchestral music.


	2. Dolente

Hyukjae has something to prove. To his family, and mostly to himself. All his life he was brought into some kind of royalty. He was privileged, he had everything he could ever need and want. Including an insured future. If his parents wanted him to take up the responsibilities of their business empire, they should have thought of starting him out early on in his childhood with lessons in finance and management. However, to groom him and his brother for this position, their parents insisted on music lessons and studies in literature and arts. Hyukjae would never know the reason why this was part of their upbringing, but he was also thankful he was introduced to music. It was the most wonderful thing in Hyukjae’s world. It moved his world, and when he was introduced to Lee Donghae’s music, he was all in. He decided he wanted to be just like him, make music and perform it for everyone to hear-to feel. Hyukjae wants his listeners to feel the delight of music, to taste its flavors-bitter, sweet or sour.

Although his family didn’t approve of his path, he continued to pursue music. His brother, Sungmin, who was the more ideal son was the only one who supported him. Sungmin was successful in terms of family expectations. He was smart, he was good in school, and when he graduated from college, he immediately earned a place in their business empire, and even owned some establishments that made high profit. He already had a girlfriend who has a powerful family, and the prospect of marriage for the two of them was highly approved. 

Hyukjae, however, didn’t have the same luck. He doubted himself many times, but when he found out that his favorite composer became a professor, he was determined to make a name for himself. 

“Hyuk, are you sure about this?” Sungmin asked him when they both read his acceptance letter from the university. “They are known to…you know.”

Hyukjae reread the first lines of the letter. “Yeah, but come on. No one will know if I don’t tell.”

Sungmin presses his lips grimly. “Yes, but if someone finds out? What if you’re out drinking and accidentally lost yourself and acted based on passion, what if you happen to hook up with someone? What if the university gets a word of that? You’ll get blacklisted, Hyukjae. They treat homosexuality harshly.”

Hyukjae frowns, his lips forming into a pout unconsciously. “But I’ll get to learn under him. No one has to know.”

Sungmin chuckles and ruffles Hyukjae’s hair. “You and your crush.”

“It’s not a crush!” Hyukjae exclaims, feeling his face heat. “I look up to him, that’s all!”

Sungmin laughs. “Look up to him and other things, hm?” He beams at his adorable little brother. Then, he turns serious. “I know you’ll do great, but be careful.”

Hyukjae had to wait until he’s a senior in university to get accepted into Donghae’s music program. It was an arduous journey, and an uphill battle the moment that he got into it. Since he was basically shunned from his family, he had to rely on his own strength and survive college, all the while by keeping a secret that can shatter his dreams. In his mind, he often asks questions to his idol there. For some reason, it gave him strength. Maybe he also went through what he went through. Maybe they can relate to each other, and Hyukjae won’t be so alone in his world. 

Hyukjae always listened to Donghae’s pieces to cheer him up, to remind himself why he was so determined to go in this path. It’s for himself too. Despite his family’s rejection, and having no backup, he was determined to stand on his own feet. 

He can’t imagine any other way. 

Hyukjae looked at his scrambled compositions, some of them were crumpled due to manhandling, and some were out of order. A pencil was perched in between his index and middle finger, twisting in intervals of three. A pair of headphones covered his ears, connecting to the electronic keyboard on his lap. He stares into space, thinking, sometimes glancing at the papers splayed in front of him as his glasses slide down since his face was too small for the pair. Finally, from the rhythmic taps of his fingers on the speaker of the piano, he plays a few notes on his electronic keyboard, experimenting with the different directions that this piece could take. After adding an accompaniment with his left hand, he decides that it is good enough and jots it down. 

He is left alone in his thoughts after accomplishing his homework for the day, still trying to push away the hurt that he felt when Donghae had rejected him. It’s not the end of the world for him, but it sorta of ruined his handsome image for Donghae. Hyukjae thought of him as a calm, collected man, a genius, whose every word seems like something you can hold on to. Then he meets him, and there’s something sad about the man in real life. He couldn’t even be angry at him for long. He’s just curious what made Donghae lose that shine in his life. Hyukjae had always thought he was crowned with a halo, but maybe that’s just him. He had idolized him since he was young. 

Hyukjae sighs, and he packs away his things. He had a few minutes to scroll through his phone, but there was nothing else productive to do, so he lies there on his bed. He closes his eyes, and when he’s teetering between sleep and consciousness, he contemplated whether he should continue pursuing Donghae’s guidance in his music, or altogether forgo him and make his own way, like what he has been doing. 

Donghae discards off his glasses, folds it neatly on top of his desk, and stands up from his chair to stretch. On his glass windows, he sees the reflection of his own grand piano, standing there just beside his living room so proudly, waiting to be played. His fingers twitch beside him, and he approaches it, trying it out one more time. The image of Hyukjae playing one of his favorite Chopin pieces in class pops into his mind, and then he plays the same song on the top of his head. He wonders where he can get back that youth, but at the same time, he lets it go. He had long convinced himself that he was all right being in this place. Although living only to see the next day, he is doing something with his life. 

From a very young age, Donghae was a rising genius. Although his parents had disowned him after dealing with the disappointment that their son is gay, Donghae brought himself up, making a name for himself in bars and cafes. He was offered a scholarship in the very prestigious university he taught in, and also met his best friend Choi Siwon, who would later publish his music pieces and articles. He enjoyed the journey because at one point, he did it for himself and that’s something no one can ever take away.

Donghae moves on to the next piece that he had memorized long ago, letting the music carry his mind away. 

That night, he turns in his sleep, making up his mind to apologize to his student. Maybe it could be the least he can do. He never wants to hurt anyone, but him being miserable does that to the people around him. He doesn’t want Hyukjae to be like that, to be like him. He wants him to keep that hope and zeal. As the teacher, he has a job to guide his students to a way that would show their potential.

In class, Hyukjae sits right by his line of vision perfectly. Donghae only needs to look straight ahead, and there, he’ll see him, his big glasses perched on top of his tiny, rounded nose, eyes down on his pale, slender hands. Though there are plenty of people around him, he stands out like the shiniest pebble. The way he played was still etched into his mind, although it has been a week. His apology is way past due, and pulling him after class would be a bit weird. He tries to be lenient, but there was nothing about him to be lenient about-Hyukjae is a good student. He pays attention, answers questions directed at him, participates in group activities, and does everything in an efficient manner. If only Hyukjae was a little bit on the delinquent side, maybe he wouldn’t feel bad rejecting him.

A little frustrating, but he can’t help but feel that he’s wronged him. He wasn’t exactly nice in the beginning. 

The more days passed by him, he was torn between approaching him and apologizing, or just brush it under the carpet and pretend that everything was okay. However, when Hyukjae would smile at him in greeting, a soft “good morning, Professor,” Donghae felt condemned. He tries to ignore the feeling, since it was something new. He felt so cold and numb for a long time that he was not sure how to identify this new feeling setting in. It was almost close to shame.

Sometimes, people go to the university and pull Donghae for interviews, or some kind of recording to be used somewhere. Siwon had often filled his schedule in his younger days that he can barely get a minute for himself. Privacy was something Donghae really treasured because he had lived most of his life hidden from everyone’s eye. He was simply used to keeping things to himself, so being exposed to media so suddenly felt like his door was just ripped open, and everyone is passing by, noticing all his things, noticing him naked to his core. Donghae only wanted to write music and play, but as Siwon had put it, his face sold too so he had better put it to use.

The people loved it, of course. They knew Lee Donghae, knew his routines, what he does before he eats breakfast, what he has for breakfast. It was ridiculous to him, since no other composer or pianist had this much attention. People focused more on idols and actors. However, Siwon was a charismatic promoter who had many connections so Donghae ends up having the spotlight. 

Of course, being famous involved critics. They were everywhere. They always had something to say, and most of the time, they weren’t nice. They wanted to break him, and at first, they weren’t successful. Now, he’s sure that they made a dent in his spirits. He couldn’t fight for himself. In front of those cameras he was stripped naked right before a hungry audience. 

Donghae stares at his class, his hands flattened over his desk. 

“Today, you will all learn how to talk music,” Donghae begins. “You’ve known how to play, but music is a spoken language too. If you’re planning to do this professionally, you need to know how to talk music. Any questions before we begin?”

Several hands raised. Curiously, he saw Hyukjae’s hand raise at the last minute.

Donghae calls at him. 

“Music is a silent language too,” Hyukjae states, leaning his chin over folded hands. “Isn’t it more important to learn how to convey it emotionally than technically?”

Donghae stares at Hyukjae for a moment, a bit perplexed. He opens his mouth for an answer, but Hyukjae stares into his eyes.

“Well, yes,” Donghae croaks out, then he clears his throat. “Of course, but in order for all of you to write this upcoming paper that is _due _soon”-he emphasizes, eyeing a few students but then earning a chuckle- “you all need to know terms and how to use them.”

Hyukjae’s eyebrow quirks, and he looks down at his pale arms, unaware that Donghae’s eyes are on him again. 

“All right, let’s get started,” Donghae announces. 

Donghae gets into the lesson, flipping through slides, his voice droning on and on about arpeggios, chromatic scales, dissonance, and all the way to vibratos, discussing their importance, but his eyes travel to Hyukjae because he kept fidgeting. His fingers tap on the desk, sometimes his pencil hits and makes a beat, papers rustle in front of him, and it was maddening to him. He tries to put it on the back of his mind, but it’s so easy to spot him. He considers making assigned seats, and putting him away from his line of vision. 

After the long lecture, Donghae sees some students yawning, or writing down some notes. He forgets about Hyukjae in the meantime, and he looks around, gauging each one of them. 

“In your syllabus, you will find how I’m going to be grading you on this paper,” Donghae says. “If you have any questions, please raise your hand, or come to my office during my hours. Also, this is one of your many papers in this class, but also an important one which will set the tone of your grades in our first semester together. I suggest doing a great job on it, because your midterm papers are also coming around the corner.”

Donghae hears the clock ticking, and the low buzz of the projector in the background, as well as more papers being shuffled. 

“I also recommend checking and reading the requirements for your midterm project, as it includes a small composition, a paper and one piece from a list of songs we will be going over,” Donghae checks his watch. “Class dismissed.”

Chairs were immediately pushed back, grating on the floor, and people immediately started to chatter. Donghae busies himself arranging his desk. He wasn’t the most organized person, but hasn’t found a reason to make a mess. His students hurry out of the class in a blur, and for some reason, he expected Hyukjae to come by again, but he doesn’t. He ends up staring at the back of his head as he leaves. 

Hyukjae hasn’t come up with a plan to get Donghae to say yes. He knows that it’s probably futile to try and try, but Hyukjae has been beat down before. He knows how to get back up. However, there is no progress, and he’s half-way into the semester with a thousand assignments to do. He has no time to put Donghae in the forefront of his thinking. He can’t be the only reason Hyukjae is running towards a goal, so he catches up on studying and turning in things in time for due dates, sometimes procrastinating and staring off into space, or pulling up YouTube to watch random videos. He catches himself up on social media sites, because he has friends too, and it _has_ been a while since he gave himself a minute to breathe and have fun. 

He was reading the requirements for Donghae’s mid-term project when his phone chimed. He sets down the syllabus, and immediately reaches for his phone, and finds Ryeowook’s text message. 

_Pick you up in fifteen? _

Hyukjae bites his lips, his eyes going to the work that he has to do. He has been very careful about the way he spends his nights out, but tonight, he needs a bigger, mind-numbing distraction.

_Sure._

Hyukjae regrets going out with Ryeowook last night, and he can barely remember what happened. He came home late, and when he got to Donghae’s class after going through a day of other classes, all he needed was to fall on his bed and sleep until next week. It doesn’t help that Donghae was extra dry today, talking on and on about one of Mozart’s pieces, and it grates on his nerves a little. Does he have a goal to make everyone hate him? He was so different from the Donghae that he got to know when he was younger. What changed? 

Hyukjae was circling in his thoughts, getting a bit worked up and his conclusion was, why does he care? He’s just a student. He has no play in Donghae’s life. He just wanted to learn, but he wants to get the worth of his money and time.

He nods off as Donghae’s voice go into the background, the long awaited sleep coming to him in waves, and pulling him under. When he wakes up, everyone was making their way out, and he finds Donghae looking at him. Hyukjae thinks he’s concerned, and when he was purposely making his way towards the door slowly, he almost expects Donghae to ask him what’s wrong, but he doesn’t.

Donghae scrutinizes his students, looking at them sternly. He carefully takes off his suit jacket, elegant hands folding it in half and outwards. He sets it on his chair, then he picks up a stack of papers from his desk. 

“Park Byunghun, congratulations, you earned the highest mark,” Donghae announces, looking towards the student’s way. “To those who are having a hard time, seek Byunghun’s time, he might teach you a thing or two. If he’s not sufficient, then it’s time that you find me or Henry.”

Donghae tasks a student to pass out the rest of the graded papers. He tries not to look towards Hyukjae’s direction when he receives his paper, but his expression was not something to be ignored. He knows Hyukjae has been doing well so far, but when he had graded Hyukjae’s paper, he was shocked. He waits until the end of class to call him up, but he was busy attending to a phone call that had him close to tears. He can barely talk back, and Donghae remembers how he’s biting his lower lip and his watery eyes. 

“No, mom, I’m sorry,” Hyukjae says, his voice cracking. 

Donghae hears him, his heart breaking. He wants to offer some comfort, but he thinks that he’s not in a place to. After all, he might have crushed his dreams. However, it doesn’t stop him from wanting to protect the brightness he radiates…or maybe Donghae just wants that for himself.

“Goodbye,” Hyukjae says, his sad voice echoing in the hallway. 

Donghae feels torn and miserable, but if Hyukjae needs help, as a student, he should be responsible for coming to his office hours. 

“To lessen the load of your mid-term projects,” Donghae begins. “There are some small deadlines. You need to keep them in mind because it will catch up to you.” 

Donghae leaves them to their groups, where they would go to the piano rooms to review and practice their pieces. He sees Hyukjae talking among his peers cheerfully, although his eyebags cannot be mistaken. Tired lines were etched on his face. Donghae was impossibly curious and he wants to know if he’s okay, so finally, he calls his name. 

Hyukjae’s eyes light up, and Donghae feels sick inside. Why does he keep looking at him like that? 

“Yes, professor?” Hyukjae says, adjusting his glasses in that particular way of his. 

Donghae folds his hands together and leans on his desk. “Is everything okay?” He prompts, but it was not enough. He gives Hyukjae another study, noticing his huge sweater with the plaid button up under it, and his loose pants. 

Hyukjae smiles reassuringly. He surely looks tired, but his youth makes up for it. “Of course, professor. I-I’m a senior in uni, now. I’m just busy.” He lets out a small, hollow laugh. 

Donghae raises an eyebrow. “Is that all of it? Hyukjae, your grades are dropping. You are a promising student, and I can’t stand watching you fall like this.”

Hyukjae heaves a deep sigh. “I’m just really busy.”

Donghae stares into his eyes, and for a moment, he was pinned down. 

Hyukjae clears his throat and smiles again. “Anyways.”

Donghae glances behind him. They are both alone. “Yeah.”

Hyukjae starts to walk away, but he abruptly stops. “If it’s okay with you, sir, could I use one of the piano rooms for practice? I only have a keyboard in my dorm.”

Donghae straightens up and folds his arms. “O-of course. Go ahead.”

Hyukjae grins at him. “Thank you, sir.”

Donghae nods, a little awkward. When Hyukjae is gone from his sight, he takes a deep breath, realizing that he has been holding it for a while. 

Donghae hears him one night, playing away in one of the piano rooms. Classes are over for the day, save for the ones that go into the night. The hallways are cold and empty, but there’s one light that Donghae sees and he walks towards it. With his briefcase in one hand, he walks towards where the music is. He leans beside the doorway and listens in. He knows this particular piece, which was composed based on a nightmare of finding their self inside a coffin, dead-it was an unavoidable fate. He hears the desperation from the music, how the tempo had moved forward so quickly, then it dwindles off, only to come back strongly, hitting the deepest chords, striking something in Donghae’s heart. 

Hyukjae builds up a crescendo, mirroring an inner turmoil, like there’s a race and Donghae does not want to participate. Still, Donghae felt like he is unwillingly pushed forward, he cannot control anything. He feels panicked because he was rushing towards his own death-that’s how Hyukjae had conveyed this particular piece, and maybe, maybe he was right. 

Hyukjae bangs on the piano with might at the peak of the song, and Donghae feels weak. It seems like Hyukjae is playing his unavoidable fate-his downfall from all the lights and cameras. He discovers himself dying, not from a physical death, but inside. 

He doesn’t want this. For a moment, he holds anger for Hyukjae and himself. He wants to stride in there to stop him from playing, but he knows that he’s been cruel enough. He doesn’t want this darkness to really kill him, to take over him and wipe out any good that surrounds him. 

And Hyukjae _is_ good. 

When the song decrescendos into soft, little, haunting notes, Donghae takes a deep breath. Then he walks away, thinking he will not succumb. The piece may indicate a submission to the death they see, but Donghae, he may be drowning, but that doesn’t stop him from raising a hand towards the surface, waiting, hoping for someone to take it and pull him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Dolente" means "very sorrowful, mournful." This is an indication that a music piece must be played very sorrowfully, as if the player is in grief.
> 
> "Arpeggio" means notes in a chord played separately.
> 
> "Chromatic scales" are notes played in ascending or descending order, where there is a natural note succeeded by a sharp (ascending) or flat (descending).
> 
> "Dissonace" is when notes or chords are played together and they cause tension, they are not harmonized.
> 
> "Vibrato" is a pulsating pitch-imagine a straight line, but when you use vibrato, the straight line becomes a wave.
> 
> "Tempo" is the speed of the song.
> 
> "Crescendo" is when the music gradually increases in volume; soft to loud.
> 
> "Decrescendo" is when the music gradually decreases in volume; loud to soft.


	3. Divertimento

Mid-terms are just around the corner, and each day increased Donghae’s concern for a certain student. Of course he’s concerned about other students, but they are all doing well, except…Hyukjae. He was surely becoming a star student, but lately, Donghae is noticing more of his shaking hands and his dark eyebags. He wanted to call him down again after class. He wanted to ask him more. What will fix this? _What can he do?_ Donghae surprised himself for thinking like that, but he couldn’t help it when his eyes would always rest on him. His smile was a little bit faded too and that scared Donghae. It shouldn’t matter, but he has gotten used to his bright presence. To watch it dim does not sit well with him. 

He was in a middle of a lecture, when he got distracted by Hyukjae, texting furiously on his phone and trying to be discreet. It irked him, and before he can even register what he was doing, he was calling out Hyukjae and reprimanding him in front of the class. 

“Mr. Lee, is that phone more important than your grade in this class? Haven’t I reminded you enough that mid-terms are coming up?”

The class glanced at them back and forth, their breaths held as the tension increased in the room.

Hyukjae stared at him with wide eyes, then irritation, which was oddly satisfying to Donghae. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” he finally said.

Donghae’s eyes narrowed at him. “Please put your phone away.”

Hyukjae gritted his teeth, which makes his sharp jaw move, but he obeys nonetheless. He wanted Donghae’s attention, and here it was. He just didn’t expect that putting the bare minimum worked. He looked down at his phone, frowning slightly. 

_Can you really not come to my wedding? :( _Sungmin texted back. 

_I’m so sorry, hyung. I’m so sorry._

_Will you at least come to my bachelor party? It’s just us, and of course, my circle of friends and also their guests._

Hyukjae chewed on his lip, aware of Donghae’s eyes on him again. He looked up, meeting his gaze, but Donghae turned away, unbuttoning his suit jacket purposefully. 

Donghae spoke again, and Hyukjae quickly texted his hyung back. 

_Of course. Of course, I’ll make it. You’re my brother._

_Yeyyyy! I miss you :’( I love you baby bro!_

Hyukjae chuckled inwardly and hid his phone away. He was in a better mood, and he made a mental note to call his brother later. He folded his hands together, and rested his chin on his fingers, tracking every movement Donghae was making. 

Meanwhile, Donghae tried not to squirm, especially when Hyukjae’s stare was palpable several rows down. When he finally dared to sneak a glance, Hyukjae was busying himself with his notes. His pout was noticeable, and amidst his slight irritation and concern, of course, he wonders if he was the reason why he’s pouting like that, or if he just does that naturally. Donghae hoped that it would be the first one.

He snapped back to his senses, and clapped his hands together in an effort to plant himself back into his lectures. It will be a long day for him today. 

Donghae has heard him almost every night playing on the piano, and in those nights he always paused to listen. He sounded wonderful, and he never failed to leave a smile on Donghae’s face. He had forgotten everything that has been troubling to him just by listening. He could feel Hyukjae’s sincerity through the music, and it made him lean against the wall, tilting his head back, eyes particularly staring at nothing and his mind thinking of only good things. 

Which were a few number of things, but that’s what happens when he’s within Hyukjae’s vicinity. He has the ability to touch hearts. 

This particular night is different, though. Donghae decided to finally come in when he found Hyukjae banging on the piano senselessly, and growling out of frustration. He has never seen him like this, and when he peeked around the doorframe, and into the glass of the door, there was Hyukjae, pacing around, clutching his hair and a pencil tucked above his ear. Donghae watched him move around, and he grew amused by the second. Hyukjae takes his pencil from the top of his ear, and taps on the top of the piano methodically, making little notes on what seems to be brief compositions, then takes the same pencil and chews it mercilessly. 

Really, this sight is so endearing. 

He was grinning before it can register to his mind, and his hand was coming up to the door to knock. Hyukjae froze in his spot, staring at Donghae as he approached. He never saw his professor with a genuine smile, but he prefers this one than his tight-lipped expressions. Hyukjae noticed the way his eyes brightened, and the way his eyes crinkled so handsomely at the corners. 

“What’s wrong?” Donghae hesitantly asks, taking a tentative step. 

Hyukjae glanced at his mess, a little embarrassed. “Are you changing your mind?” 

Donghae let out a tiny, strangled laugh, and his smile became strained. “Don’t get the wrong idea, but you are my student and my job is to help you all.” 

_This is me, making it up to you_, Donghae thought to himself. _This is the least I can do._

Hyukjae gaped at Donghae some more, feeling his ears heat. 

Donghae glanced at the strewn papers on top of the piano. “Where do we start?”

Donghae took a seat on the piano bench, and he looked at Hyukjae expectantly. “Well, come on!”

Hyukjae failed at suppressing a huge smile, and he occupied the space beside Donghae, his heart giddy. “Okay, so. I’m practicing for the mid-terms. The piece I want to do is Chopin’s Waltz in E Minor.”

Donghae glanced at Hyukjae, noticing his pink ears and that smile of his that was just full of teeth and gums that just reels him in. He seemed so joyous, that Donghae wanted to come closer and feel that.

“You sure do love minor pieces,” he commented, remembering the first piece that Hyukjae played in class, and the nights that he spent perfecting other minor pieces.

The corners of Hyukjae’s mouth perked up, though his eyes are down. “I guess it seems fitting.”

“How so?”

“We just tend to gravitate to these things. In minor pieces, there are periods of, well, sadness, hopelessness, but then it grows into something more. The music lightens up. Also, it’s soothing, sometimes loving even.”

“Some goes back to its original mood.”

“Yes, but that’s the point, isn’t it? Nothing’s perfect. We don’t stay happy all the time, that’s impossible, but we move on, we power through.”

Donghae stared at Hyukjae again, his eyes on his jawline, but his mind was starting whir. It was like Hyukjae was sending him a message to get it together, to look up again. And he wants to. Hyukjae makes him want to.

He turned to the piece in front of them. “Well, why don’t you show me what you have so far? And I’ll critique you.”

Hyukjae nodded enthusiastically. “Okay.”

Donghae bit back a smile, and he got up from the piano bench to give Hyukjae some more room. 

Donghae watched Hyukjae in amazement ashe played, paying close attention to the way his hands moved over the piano keys, and the way his face produced the emotions of the song, and when he was finished, he almost started to clap. He stopped himself, and then sat next to Hyukjae again to point out some sections that he could improve in, like its sudden change in tempo, or the lighter trills and runs. Hyukjae played again, keeping Donghae’s advice in mind. 

The hours pass by easily, especially in this piano room where they are too engrossed in each other’s presence. Donghae showed Hyukjae a better technique to tackle the sudden allegros, telling him that it was something that he made himself after practicing and analyzing this very piece. 

He went to Hyukjae’s right side, his arm going towards the keys of the piano. He leaned over, subtracting the space between them, until Donghae can see the movement of his chest as he breathes. His eyes go to his pale neck, but he suddenly tears himself away from the sight before he thinks of _something_ else. 

At this sudden proximity, Hyukjae doesn’t dare to lean away. In fact, he might have leaned closer as well. 

Donghae’s mind betrayed him as he demonstrated the technique to Hyukjae. He was only one arm away from fully holding Hyukjae. 

After a few more practices, Donghae decides to call their tete-a-tete into a halt, but it took a lot of strength. He wanted more, and so he insisted on walking Hyukjae to his dorm half-way. 

They spent their walk in comfortable silence. It seemed so easy, just like this. Donghae felt like he was free to breathe, and he had a tiny smile throughout the whole walk.

Hyukjae stopped, and then stepped in front of Donghae. “Goodnight, sir.”

Donghae opened his mouth to say something, a little disappointed at the short time that they spent together, but Donghae couldn't say that. He was getting ahead of himself-he was too happy to think carefully. “Uh, goodnight, Hyukjae.”

They stare at each other some more, and Donghae thought he might have seen stars in Hyukjae’s eyes. 

“Um, Donghae should be fine,” Donghae blurted out, making Hyukjae raise an eyebrow. “We-we’re not in a classroom, so-“

Hyukjae cleared his throat, suppressing a giggle. “Right, yes, of course. Um, good night, Donghae."

Hyukjae made a move to walk, which was more like a stuttered step. He felt flustered that he just spent so many hours with Donghae. He wasn’t a difficult man like Hyukjae had thought-he almost seemed like his old self, like his younger self that was just starting out. He’s never seen him so relieved. It was so easy to pull a smile from him, and Hyukjae, in a selfish way, takes a bit of the credit for putting that on his face.

Donghae watched Hyukjae walk away, his sentence of “I had a great time” dying in his throat. He does know that he is looking forward to tomorrow, so that he can listen to Hyukjae play again. 

The atmosphere in the classroom seemed to have lighten up. Henry noticed the change, because instead of finding a dreary mood, he found Donghae with a gentle, relaxed expression on his face. Even the lighting in the classroom changed. Henry continued to observe this strange Donghae, because this Donghae was not someone he knew. He only knew the current one, with the sad eyes and perfunctory smiles directed at particularly no one. It was like that other Donghae knew he was being watched so his actions were automatically designed to be careful. 

However, _today_, he was quite clumsy-dropping his pens on the floor, tripping over nothing but air. Henry found it almost childish, and he watched this comedy go on until their students have started to trickle in little groups. 

Donghae’s eyes wandered and sifted through the faces of his students while he fixed his sleeves, and then suddenly bumping into the corner of his desk, where he almost crumpled up on the spot, and Henry kept his smirk to himself. 

Donghae’s eyes landed on the storm that is Hyukjae, with his messy, childish hair and his crumpled notes stuffed into his bag; his big, fluffy sweaters and loose pants that emphasized just how tiny he was. From his many observations of him, Donghae realized that Hyukjae is so tiny that sometimes he worried when he would lapse his time with a nap. What if Hyukjae wasn’t eating enough? What if his assignments were killing him?

Though his inner monologues-yes, they have become monologues-about Hyukjae would never be answered (because he would not let himself get the answers), he tried helping him more in nights that Hyukjae would decide to stay and practice. He also did that to make up for the times that he has been difficult towards him-he isn’t like that. He swears he isn’t like that and he is so determined to show him. In one of his monologues, he wondered why he even cares, or why does it matter that he shows Hyukjae that he isn’t cruel. 

Sometimes, those were his checks and balances to be decent, and he finds himself getting pulled towards Hyukjae. It was inevitable he supposes, that he whatever he would do would bring him closer to to him, but never condemning. Like a breath of fresh air.

Henry immediately noticed the emotions passing through Donghae’s face, but the professor turned away before Henry could pinpoint the reason why. 

“Your crescendo is a bit slow,” Donghae commented one night. “Or at least, I don’t feel that you put _your_ weight into it.”

Hyukjae stared at Donghae expectedly, leaning forward in the other's space naturally. They were so close, their shoulders could be touching if Donghae were to reach forward to play on the piano keys. He made the first move though, his slender hands over the black and white, as if everything about this has been black and white for the two of them. Music isn’t. 

“Have you heard of Rubinstein?” Donghae asked, his head turning slightly to meet Hyukjae’s eyes. 

“Yes,” Hyukjae replied, accidentally playing a random note. He blinked rapidly at this, and snatched his hands away, hitting Donghae in the process. 

“Sorry!” He bursts out, leaning away to check his expression.

Donghae chuckled, without any reign. “It’s okay, I hardly felt it.”

“Are you saying I’m weak?” Hyukjae said slightly offended, but his eyes twinkled from playfulness. 

Donghae raised an eyebrow. “Well, considering your lack of crescendos…”

Hyukjae’s mouth opened to utter a smarter remark, but his youth made an appearance by elbowing Donghae. 

Donghae jumped at the sudden contact, and bumped his shoulder against Hyukjae in response. With a nascent smile complimented with something like adoration in his eyes, Donghae gestured towards the piano piece-Chopin’s Piano Sonata in B Flat Minor-and they revert to a serious mood, one that distinguished the border between teacher and student. 

“So, about Rubinstein,” Donghae started. “I think, personally, that he has the best interpretation of Chopin’s works. Maybe Chopin’s ghost possessed him and played It out almost perfectly-“

At this, Hyukjae chuckled a bit. 

“His style mirrored the original, his dynamics were lovely and impeccable-very romantic, if you will,” Donghae replaced Hyukjae’s hands over the piano and straightened a bit. “And it sounded a little bit like this.”

Donghae began to play, and Hyukjae watched in amazement, his throat tightening up and his emotions being summoned and forming into tears just behind his lids. When Donghae finished with a slight show of his hands lifting from the piano elegantly, Hyukjae gasped for breath, and he might have clapped if he wasn’t frozen by Donghae’s gaze. 

Hyukjae wanted to back down, have wanted to turn back to the first paper he half-assed, and had put through the gutter, but that small voice in his head told him that he wouldn’t even be near Lee Donghae had it not been for his childish, premeditated plan (it was more of an experiment, really); the reason being his senior year of university and his neglected work.

“What?” Donghae murmured. 

Hyukjae shook his head, trying to remember how Donghae played on the piano. If he had been paying attention, he would have played it just like him. “I have a question,” he stalled.

Donghae looked pleased. “Go ahead.”

“What did you mean when you said I didn’t put my weight into it?” Hyukjae felt a bit proud of himself for coming up with that question on his feet.

Donghae nodded, gathering his thoughts. “I’ve observed you. I noticed that when you play a crescendo, it’s a bit lighthearted.”

Hyukjae felt flattered that Donghae had his eyes on him. 

“I mean, that works for other pieces, like Mozart maybe, but in this particular piece,” Donghae laid his hands on the piano again, and sent Hyukjae a gentle smile. “Build it up like this. Also, you kind of change the tempo-don’t do that. Maybe people won’t notice, but do it for my sake, because I do notice.”

Donghae demonstrated again, and Hyukjae celebrated mentally when he didn’t get distracted. It was his turn to play again, and when he finished, he blushed at the pride Donghae was displaying so openly. 

Hyukjae was amused, but he also considered his burgeoning desire to know Donghae’s many sides, and find the rawest version. He held resentment for the first Donghae he met, but along the months he grew curious because slowly, that Donghae was slowly disappearing.

The two of them smiled at each other, the other shy, and the other peering, or maybe they were a little bit of both, because for a second, it was as if they were reflections of each other.

Nights were becoming special to Donghae. These were hours where he can lean against the frame of the doorway of a particular piano room, and listen and just bask into what music Hyukjae has up in his sleeve. This was now his routine before he goes to his empty house, and another monologue would be added in his head, all the while watching Hyukjae closely, noticing his quirks, his best and worst plays. Donghae remembered his younger self staying up until the sun rises just to perfect those damned compositions and other pieces. He wished someone saw that there were many failures before the actual success, but now it didn’t matter, Hyukjae has him to be his witness. 

He watched wistfully, smiling at parts of a song when Hyukjae would play it just as he would, and also making a mental note to encourage him to make his own style and signature. 

In one of those nights, where coldness has delved into the walls and the heaters have turned up, Hyukjae beckons him inside to listen to a short scratch of a song he wrote, almost begging with those wide eyes, and Donghae was compelled. He was curious too since Hyukjae has been mentioning his scratches of composition to him, and he could no longer put a cap on his curiosity. So he complied, setting down his briefcase on the floor and leaning his back against the wall, where he can get a perfect view of Hyukjae’s side profile and the straight line of his body. 

Hyukjae started playing, and at the first sound, Donghae immersed himself into his music. He felt like each note was carving out a step for him, and he followed them as they made a trail. Hyukjae sounded playful, even taunting, like a child joyfully screaming at the top of his lungs to chase after him, and then darting out of reach. 

At the end of the song, Donghae was rendered speechless. He didn’t know how to put up the wall that was starting to mold along the lines of his face. He can only stare at Hyukjae as his waif figure walked towards him. Hyukjae’s face was expectant, but Donghae knew that he’s nervous by the tapping of his foot, and from the way he was folding his arms as if he was hugging himself. 

“Don’t look so shell-shocked, if it’s terrible, just tell me, I don’t need sugar-coating,” Hyukjae snapped, and he bit his lower lip. He looked away, a blush coloring his features.

Donghae opened his mouth to say something, but he was in too much awe. The corners of his mouth drew upwards in amusement.

“What?” Hyukjae prodded. He stepped closer, forehead creased in fear of rejection.

Donghae had let out an unhinged grin, and pulled Hyukjae into an embrace. Realizing his action, he immediately lets go. “I-I’m sorry,” Donghae stammered.

Hyukjae’s eyes widened from surprise, and his plump lips parted a little. 

“That was beautiful, Hyukjae,” Donghae finally said. 

Hyukjae’s mouth formed into a smile, and Donghae watched as it widened to showcase his pink gums. “Really?!” He exclaimed, stepping closer.

Donghae nodded, and noticed that his hands were still on Hyukjae’s arms. He slowly took them away, unable to look at anything but Hyukjae’s face.

“So?” Hyukjae prompted. “Are you going to change your mind? Will you mentor me now?”

Donghae awkwardly pats Hyukjae on the shoulder. “I have to go, Hyukjae, goodnight.”

Hyukjae felt annoyance at Donghae’s lack of words towards him, but he held himself back. For all he knew, Donghae may not appreciate his blunt mouth. He scratched his nape, watching as Donghae retreated from his sight. 

“Oh, wait, Donghae!” Hyukjae called, and it was almost hilarious to see Donghae turning up just as quickly as he left. 

“Yes?”

“Will you stop by tomorrow? Y-you know, to hear, but like if you want to. I-please?” Hyukjae hated how small and desperate he sounded, and it annoyed him too because Donghae makes him like this. 

Donghae easily smiled. “Yes, I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

Hyukjae sighed in relief, finally willing to let Donghae go for the night. 

Donghae hurried out of the place, but he was going too quickly that he didn’t notice he wasn’t alone. Papers exploded up in the air and towards the floor, and someone had immediately scoured the floor to collect them. 

“I am so sorry, professor!” 

Donghae crouched down and helped the student. When the student looked up, Donghae recognized him. He was one of the students that earn the highest grades in class.

“Here,” Donghae said, handing Byunghun his things. 

“Thank you, professor!” Byunghun bowed in front of him, and Donghae almost stepped back from the intensity. 

“Be careful,” Donghae told him, and he proceeded to make his way out. 

Byunghun continued to bow, and when Donghae is gone from his sight, he straightened up, and continued walking to his destination. He stopped by Hyukjae’s piano room, and listened, his eyes trained towards the subject of the professor’s attention. 

Donghae shoved his laptop and all the papers that he needed to bring home in his briefcase, and hurriedly walked towards the piano rooms. In his mind, he was formulating all the things that he needed to tell Hyukjae. For one, he was a little miffed about his papers since they have all been inconsistent. Donghae believed with the few pieces of faith he still has that Hyukjae has the potential to excel, and maybe become even greater than him, but unfortunately, this music program not only looked at talent, but also the grades of the student. He doesn’t want to see him fall like this. He corrected himself: he doesn’t want any of his students to fall like this.

That’s true for every teacher, right? Then why does it feel different for Hyukjae?

Donghae kept walking, his lonesome footsteps echoing in the hallways. He actually heard the piano first, but when he looked up, he was surprised to see Henry standing by the doorway, one shoulder against the door frame and his arms folded together. 

Donghae felt like Henry just invaded his mind, and something in him screamed in alarm. Of course, he knew how to deal with panic and fear-he just kept his face blank.

Henry gestured towards the room with his jaw. “Now I see why you like him. He’s something.”

Donghae stared at Henry, and swallows a lump in his throat. “He’s very talented.”

A corner of Henry’s mouth tilted up. “Yes, he is.”

Donghae dared to glance at Hyukjae. He found his heart softening at the sight, wanting nothing more but to sit by his side and hear him play. He got a glimpse of scenario where he’s holding Hyukjae’s slender hands inside his own. 

“You know, you may lose him if he doesn’t survive this semester,” Henry commented. “He’s very smart, but I don’t think he’ll make it if he continues to be like this.”

Donghae’s heart fell at the thought of losing him; of never seeing or hearing him again. 

Henry stared at Donghae critically. “You like him.”

Donghae rolled his eyes. “Henry, that’s absurd.”

Henry shook his head. “It’s okay, Donghae. I’m not judging.”

Donghae pressed his lips together. “He’s my student.”

Henry straightened up and leaned away from the doorframe. “Just be careful. This university will blacklist you, famous or not.”

Donghae kept silent. 

“I won’t tell.”

Henry walked away, and Donghae stood there, frozen. His hand was about to come up to the door knob, but he took his hand away at the last second, as if he touched something hot. Then he walked away as well. 

Hyukjae halted his playing, and glanced at the glass door, thinking that he saw something, but there was nothing. He wondered where Donghae was, but after utilizing the hours that he could squeeze in for practice, Donghae did not turn up. He left the piano room, and felt like he was rejected. He thought that Donghae would have liked to hear some more of his music, but maybe he also forgot to stop by, just like the time when he said that he will mentor him in his brother's club. 

He walked back to his dorm, dejected, and when he was finally lying down to sleep, he thought about how his path became solidified because of Donghae, and how it was getting clouded as he pursued his guidance. He felt frustrated towards him for so many reasons, and mostly because he was slowly taking over his life. He didn't want him to be the sole reason why he was running towards a goal, yet here he was. He didn't know what he wanted from him. 

Hyukjae turned on his bed, adjusting the sheets around him. When his eyes had finally gave in to sleep, he saw Donghae’s face, etched with a smile directed towards him only, and felt his embrace around his body, enveloping him like he surrendered his weight on top of a pile of feather pillows. 

And when he woke, he was plunged into coldness, and he knew he was alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Divertimento" is a lighthearted composition; it means "to amuse"
> 
> Arthur Rubinstein was a classical pianist, and was often deemed as the greatest interpreter of Chopin's works.
> 
> Also...lemme know your thoughts??? :) I need some feedback to let me knowif this fic is going the right direction and also conveying the right emotions and thoughts. THANK YOU ALL.


	4. Piacere

Hyukjae realized that Donghae stopped coming by to their routine meetings, which made him feel hurt. He thought that after Donghae’s poor memory blunder, they would ease back to their usual selves, where they would spend hours together enclosed in a piano room, with Donghae guiding and Hyukjae filling in all the details. 

He had to admit, he really missed Donghae’s presence. Their first semester is about to end, and after winter break, Hyukjae’s life will grow hectic as he approaches graduating from university. 

The thought of graduating should make him happy, but he also thought of what he would be leaving behind. Something felt unfinished. 

And it wasn’t just the compositions that he had started on.

Hyukjae tried to fix his face during lectures. If he couldn’t, then everyone would notice the frown on his face that he knew people feared and stayed away from, as if it would bring about a storm. Everything around him seemed to spur the irritation that he has been feeling these days. Not only was he ruining his life, but he was also spiraling down emotionally. He could no longer get ahold of himself. Several papers were passed back to them, including the mini deadlines for the upcoming midterms, and when Hyukjae received his, he stared at the sticky note attached to the top of his page. 

_See me after class._

Hyukjae held his breath, and he quickly glanced at Donghae. Donghae looked back at him, and Hyukjae thought that he looked almost worried. 

_Whatever,_ Hyukjae thought. He looked through his grades, and he was glad that he decided to get himself together before he really ruins everything for himself permanently. He won’t be like Donghae, who seemed to butcher anything that walked into his life. 

When class ended, Hyukjae ignored Donghae and continued to walk out of the classroom.

On the weekends, Donghae moped around in his house. He got all of his university work out of the way, but after that, he felt empty. He was okay working, until he ran out of things to do. Time was unreal when he was alone. He wasn’t sure if it was Saturday or Sunday until he would check his phone, and then realize it was past midnight of the next day. 

In one of the weekends he spent alone, Siwon turned up. Donghae observed his attire, and deduced that he probably went to church before visiting. 

“Henry called,” Siwon said once he stepped inside Donghae’s home. 

“You two talk?” Donghae grouched, folding his arms. 

“Well, yeah. My company also manages his work too, you know?”

Donghae watched Siwon as he poured himself a glass of white wine from his fridge. “No.”

Siwon sighed and took a sip from his glass. “Your place is clean.”

Donghae tensed. He knew what was coming. “As it should be.”

Siwon opened his mouth, but then closed it back. 

“Siwon, what are you doing here?” Donghae also poured himself a glass of white wine.

“Well, I’m your friend, so I came to make sure you’re okay. We haven’t talked for weeks.”

Donghae gulped his drink halfway. “I am okay. I’m breathing, right?”

Siwon rolled his eyes. “Right.” He had put his glass down on the counter table of Donghae’s kitchen. “Is anything bothering you? Because, if there is, we can fix it. It’s been years, Donghae, you need to start playing again.”

Donghae scratched his head angrily. “I can’t, Siwon. I really can’t. Is this what you came in here for?”

“You need to play again.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Donghae…” Siwon began.

Donghae grabbed his glass of wine and threw it down the floor. “What?! What is this about? Why are you pushing me?!” He shouted.

Siwon sighed calmly, and only folded his hands together. “You know what, I’m talking business now. Your contract with us is about to expire and you haven’t released anything.”

“Then I’ll renew!”

“With nothing to offer? Donghae, please. Wake up. The company won’t want you. Sure, you are our star, but if you have nothing else to give us, then the company will let you go. It’s been years anyway.”

“You mean _your_ company?’

“Yes, _my_ company. The one I created by myself, with _my_ own effort.”

Donghae and Siwon met each other’s intense gazes and battled for the space to get the last word in. Donghae won.

“Go home, Siwon,” Donghae sighed, noticing the mess that he made. Suddenly, his spacious house felt suffocating. He bought this particular house because of the space, because while it left him feeling lonely, it doesn’t feel like he’s trapped inside.

Siwon let out a breath, and he slowly stood up from the stool he occupied. He headed towards the door, and rested his hand on top of the doorknob. “Seriously, Donghae. I mean it. Get it together. If you need help with anything, I am here for you.”

“I’ll call.”

Donghae glared at the shut door, where Siwon had just exited. He was sorry to see him go like that, but he would be lying if he told Siwon he’ll take up performing and composing again just to ease his mind. He’s had enough, and he wouldn’t put himself through all that stress and loneliness. No one could see him beyond the stage, they didn’t care if he as much tumbled and fell, as long as he looked well in front of the cameras. 

If they wanted the exceptional Lee Donghae, then they would have to dig him out from all those years he spent catering to them. 

Though he had stopped coming to Hyukjae’s piano room sessions, he always looked forward to seeing him in class. That was the only thing that kept him from sleeping in. He could make himself get out of the bed and into his shower if it meant he would be one step away from Hyukjae. He hated himself for feeling like that, as if he had to depend on him just to keep his head up. It was ironic, really-Hyukjae sitting just by the line of his gaze, always there for him to look at, though he could not summon the courage to approach him. 

It was like staring at a beautiful painting, but instead of giving off a pleasant feeling, it was splitting the barely sewed cracks of his heart. He could never touch. He could only look, as the beautiful painting gazed back at him, taunting him a little bit. He could never be a part of the world it showed him. 

They were a month away from mid-terms, and Donghae couldn’t help but notice that Hyukjae was sneezing in his class, and his nose was pink from blowing it so much. He also tried to ignore the fact that it was getting colder and colder, and Hyukjae wasn’t helping himself by wearing thin coats. He huffed to himself, telling himself that if Hyukjae does not want to take care of himself, it was none of his business. He shouldn’t be so involved in his life. He’s an adult. 

However, that did not stop Donghae from panicking when Hyukjae suddenly took an absence. The kid never missed his classes, and it was strange to find his seat unoccupied. Maybe he was really being obvious about it because Henry had approached him and pointed out the distress between his eyebrows. 

Henry leaned over his desk, and grabbed the nearest pen. “Here,” he said, ripping the sticky note from its pad, then handing it to Donghae. “That’s his number. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Donghae frowned even deeper. Then he rolled his eyes. “Stop. I don’t have to check in with him.”

Unexpectedly, Henry laughed. “Hyung, look. You’re into him!”

Donghae glared at him, looking around but the classroom is empty. “Be quiet, Henry. Don’t meddle. And that is not true.”

Henry made a mocking expression, but he laughed again as if Donghae just told him a funny joke. “Okay, Donghae.”

“Shut up, Henry, I am still your superior.”

Henry sighed, and glanced at the sticky note between Donghae’s fingers. “You know, him coming into your life isn’t a bad thing. If you’re not going to do anything about it, at least use all your frustration and create something. Use him as your muse. We all need some inspiration.”

Donghae sighed, feeling the note wrinkling. He wasn’t asking for advice. He kept his gaze away from Henry.

Henry cocked his head thoughtfully. “You guys are both adults. You can start something if you want.”

“That would be creepy of me.”

“Not really. You can wait until he graduates. If you approach him with good intentions and he reciprocates, then that’s not a bad thing at all.”

Donghae thought of a million reasons why it was a bad thing. “Stop talking to Siwon, it’s none of your business.”

“Just think about it, you're both adults,” Henry told him with an unaffected voice, then he walked away, carrying his violin in one hand. 

When Henry was long gone, Donghae peeked at the sticky note, contemplating whether he should call Hyukjae. He placed it on his desk as he packed up, still trying to make up his mind, but when he couldn’t find the courage to, he tucked it into his pocket. With his briefcase in one hand, he walked into the dim hallway, his thoughts keeping him busy. Suddenly, his awareness was ripped into existence when he heard the piano trickling hauntingly, and he stopped in his tracks. His heartbeat went up his throat, and he swallowed to keep it from closing. 

The playing was weak, but Donghae could not mistake the sound for anything else. 

He bursted into the piano room, and found Hyukjae there. His student froze, his tired eyes widening. Donghae noticed he had bags under his eyes, and he was paler and skinnier.

“What are you doing here?!” He shouted.

Hyukjae stared at him incredulously, jumping out of the piano bench in surprise. “Uh-sir-“

“Aren’t you sick?!” Donghae exclaimed, stepping closer to examine him. “It’s cold outside and you’re wearing that?”

Donghae gestured at the thin sweater that he was wearing.

“I-I have a coat, sir, it’s really-I’m okay!” Hyukjae hurriedly said. 

Donghae immediately took off his own coat, not hearing Hyukjae’s excuses. He swung it around Hyukjae’s bony shoulders, and wrapped him in it. 

Hyukjae watched as Donghae messily hopped around to collect his things. He couldn’t even say anything. 

“You need to get home and rest!” Donghae scolded. 

“Uh, sir, um, Donghae-“

“Let’s go!”

Donghae immediately grabbed his hand, and dragged him out of the room, his briefcase and Hyukjae’s bag in the other hand. Once they were outside, the cold air made Hyukjae shiver, and he sniffled a little bit. Donghae made his way towards the general direction where Hyukjae’s dorm was, his grip on Hyukjae’s hand unwavering. 

Hyukjae sneezed, and Donghae immediately stopped in his tracks. He stepped in front of Hyukjae, and studied him. 

Around them, white dots started to fall on them, little by little. It did not make any impact, but each soft bundle of ice plopped on the pavement like small teardrops.

Donghae barely realized that he was still holding Hyukjae’s hand, and when he had let it go, he had put it on Hyukjae’s burning forehead. 

“Hyukjae, you are burning up! What the hell?” Donghae sighed, and he placed their things on the ground. “You know, you make me so, so worried.”

Hyukjae glanced up at Donghae’s words, and he watched him as he took off his scarf. Donghae met his eyes briefly, and then proceeded to lock his scarf around Hyukjae’s white neck, while also pausing at his red, swollen lips. Again, it was like staring at a painting. Even though he was only probably a foot away (or less), and even though Donghae only needed to raise his hand a little bit more to touch his cheek, he could never fully hold him in the way he wanted to. 

And he wanted to, so badly. Every touch sent little sparks into his fingertips, and it raced through his veins, tingling the hairs on his skin, and he was drowning in that feeling. He would memorize every bit though, because it was the only thing that makes him feel alive. 

“Now tell me how to get to your dorm,” Donghae commanded.

Hyukjae told him the directions, and also took his own bag from Donghae’s grip, and they started walking together. Their steps started to match, and Donghae could feel the proximity of their shoulders. Suddenly, Hyukjae’s weight started to lean on him heavily, and he could hear his labored breaths. 

“Hyukjae?” Donghae murmured. 

Hyukjae’s eyes fluttered close, and Donghae caught him readily. 

“Hyukjae,” Donghae called with alarm, shaking him gently. He went still when he could feel Hyukjae’s breath on his neck. 

_Damn it, really, now?_ He questioned the sky. Snow kept falling on them, and Donghae hefted Hyukjae’s weight close to his body.

Hyukjae woke up disoriented, and it did not help that the place he woke up into was unfamiliar to him. The bed he was on was so warm, and so soft, and he wished he could lie on it forever. Slowly, he set the bedsheets aside, and then swung his legs to the side. His whole body felt sickeningly hot, but at the same time, he was freezing. He observed his dim surroundings, noticing the sudden wide space around him. There wasn’t much memorable in the room, save for some bedside drawers. There were huge windows on the sides, but they were all hidden behind thick, velvety curtains. 

Hyukjae made his way out of the room, only to find more space. 

There was a very neat kitchen with gray appliances in one corner, which oversaw the living room, and another huge space where a grand piano was situated over a red, rustic carpet, and the area was surrounded with filled bookshelves. There were huge windows enclosing the living room, and the curtains were parted to let in some light. Hyukjae saw a figure sleeping on one of the couches in the living room, and he treaded carefully. On the sleek coffee table was an empty glass of red wine. Hyukjae really hoped that he didn’t do anything that might get him in trouble, but as he got closer, his heart calmed down. 

It was only Donghae. 

“Um, professor, sir?” Hyukjae whispered, suddenly conscious of the very spacious environment. 

There was no response from Donghae.

Hyukjae smiled mischievously, and he crouched to examine Donghae’s face. He was very handsome-one of the things that pulled Hyukjae towards him. 

“Wow,” Hyukjae mused. “You look very young without looking like an ass all day.”

Unbeknownst to him, Donghae had stayed up all night from worry. He occasionally checked on Hyukjae’s condition, and when dawn arrived, he was trying to wind down to get some sleep, but his mind was on overdrive. He was only pretending to close his eyes when he heard the door to his bedroom open. 

Donghae cracked one eye open. “I heard that.”

Hyukjae backed away quickly, letting out a small giggle. This was not the classroom. He didn’t feel the need to check himself. “Sorry, I had to. It was my only chance of insulting you without any negative consequences.”

Donghae laughed softly. “Is that so?”

Hyukjae nodded. “So this is your house,” he remarked.

Donghae sat up, and smiled at him tiredly. “Yeah. It’s nice.”

“Hm, very spacey.”

“You could say that.”

“I thought you’d be messier,” Hyukjae said without brakes.

Donghae raised an eyebrow at him. “Why does everyone think that?”

Hyukjae shrugged, chuckling softly as he took the seat beside Donghae. “You just aren’t what I expected in real life, I guess. You’re a total ass, compared to what you show on tv.”

Hyukjae glanced at Donghae’s reaction, expecting him to be sour about it, but instead, Donghae only watched him with curiosity. 

Donghae was surprised at Hyukjae’s honesty, but he found it very refreshing. He knew he should be a bit offended, but when he searched his heart, he didn’t find any bite to his words. Only the truth.

“Aren’t you generous with your compliments?” Donghae retorted, matching his teasing tone. 

“Of course! With a handsome face like yours, I’ll never run out,” Hyukjae replied, and if that sentence had a facial expression, Donghae swore that Hyukjae might have winked at him. 

Donghae took a deep breath and let out a free laugh. He actually felt flattered that Hyukjae was using this tone with him. He hid a smile, and he stood up. 

“Breakfast?” He offered. 

Hyukjae watched Donghae cook, while he sat on the countertop with his jaw resting on his palm. He stayed quiet, liking the comfortable silence that has settled upon them. Pretty soon, Donghae finished, and together, they ate at the dining table. Donghae rarely used the dining table and usually ate his meals on the countertop since he was alone. 

However, today was a different occasion. The two of them talked, and Donghae found himself laughing at Hyukjae’s jokes. His house felt full for the first time since he had moved in, and he wishes that breakfast would last forever. He would gladly have breakfasts like this every morning.

Soon, it was time for them to part, but Donghae felt his heart lifting, and for once, he was not fighting himself. He made sure that Hyukjae was warm enough to go outside, even insisting that he put on the scarf that he wrapped around his neck. He watched him hold the door open, and before he could step out, something in heart made its way to his voice. 

“I’ll mentor you,” Donghae finally said, and it was so liberating to let it out. 

And it was so freaking worth to see the light shine from Hyukjae’s pretty eyes. 

Hyukjae stepped toward him, with hope bursting from his chest. He wanted to give Donghae a hug, but sent out his hand instead. Donghae stared at it, but then awkwardly shook his hand as well. 

“Thank you,” Hyukjae told him, sounding very relieved. 

_No, thank you,_ Donghae replied to him in his mind. 

As soon as Hyukjae left, Donghae almost shouted from joy. The tiny sparks that he felt from his fingertips were no longer sparks-they grew into a fire that warmed him up from the inside. 

He rushed to his piano, and started playing all the happy songs that he knew on the top of his head. When he had started to wind down, he found himself thinking about Hyukjae’s swollen lips, so flushed under all that white, falling snow.

“At the end of the day, Hyukjae purposefully took his time. He knew that he would be spending some more time with Donghae after class, so he carefully arranged his things. He went down the steps, trying to hide the giddiness, but it took form by putting springs underneath his shoes. Unfortunately, someone bumped into him. 

Hyukjae reared back, and immediately apologized to Byunghun. “I’m so sorry,” he said. 

Byunghun smiled and shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I was in your way,” he said and stepped aside. “I forgot my planner, that’s why.”

Hyukjae nodded, and he stepped aside to let Byunghun go back to his seat. 

Hyukjae made his way down, and waited until Byunghun exited the classroom, then he rushed towards Donghae. 

“Ready to tutor me?” He said with a wide smile.

Donghae stared at him, mesmerized. His mind played a loop track of his own voice: _He’s your student._

“Donghae?” Hyukjae called.

Donghae blinked, and he nodded. Together, they made their way out of the classroom.

Piano lessons were moved to Donghae’s house, instead of the usual piano room on campus. Donghae let Hyukjae play away while he prepared dinner for the two of them, only interrupting when he needed to pitch in his advice. Hyukjae had listened very well, and Donghae was pleased at the results that Hyukjae executed. 

While Donghae was setting up the dining table, Hyukjae had stopped playing and started examining the bookshelves against the walls. He walked to and fro, his fingers trailing across the spines of the books in the shelves. He hesitated when he came across a collection of Donghae’s compositions, glancing at the older man in the kitchen. He stared at its spine, while his finger was on top of it, ready to pull it out.

“Hey, dinner’s ready,” Donghae called from the kitchen.

Hyukjae snatched his hand away from the book, and he turned around, and took a seat by the dinner table.

Donghae smiled sheepishly, as Hyukjae stared at the dishes presented in front of him. “Dig in,” he said. 

Hyukjae eagerly picked up a fork, and twisted it around the pasta, and when he had tasted it, he let out a happy squeal. Donghae raised his eyebrows, amused at Hyukjae’s expressions. 

“Haven’t had a home cooked meal in a while,” Hyukjae commented when he slowed down eating.

Donghae glanced at Hyukjae’s face, noticing the food bits by the corner of his lips. He settled for handing him a napkin. “Why don’t you learn?”

Hyukjae accepted the napkin graciously, and dabbed at his mouth. “Are you going to help with that too?” He replied smoothly. 

Donghae chuckled, immediately looking down at his food. “I don’t get paid enough for extra classes in cooking.”

Hyukjae giggled. “Considering only having one or two classes a day, I think money isn’t the problem. Maybe it’s just your stamina.”

Donghae narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“What do you think I’m saying?” Hyukjae challenged playfully.

“This is a trap,” Donghae concluded.

Hyukjae laughed, and reached for his drink. “You make it so easy for me to pick on you.”

Donghae felt his mouth stretched to each sides. “You know, you’re still my student, who allowed you to talk to me so informally?” 

“Are you going to help with that too?” Hyukjae’s mouth enveloped the rim of the glass, and Donghae watched his throat bob up and down as he took a drink.

“You’re the one who asked me first. As the teacher, I’m just ensuring I do my job.”

Hyukjae smirked, and they continued their banter throughout dinner. 

When dinner had ended, and the two of them cleaned up the kitchen, it was also time for Hyukjae to go home. Donghae walked him to the door, and they ended up staring at each other after Hyukjae had put on his shoes. Donghae noticed the short distance between them, and he found his inner voice yelling, _too close!_

“I had a great time,” Hyukjae said, then bit his lower lip. The lights reflected on his eyes, and Hyukjae suddenly smiled, stunning Donghae a little bit.

“It was my pleasure,” Donghae said, his voice low and hushed. He tried not to glance at Hyukjae’s lips, but he ended up failing. “Tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow,” Hyukjae confirmed. 

Donghae began hating himself a little bit, and wondered what Hyukjae thought of him if he were to read his mind. 

Hyukjae was about to walk out of the door, but he suddenly paused. “You should laugh and smile more. People may start to think you’re a robot. Your monotone lectures were enough to convince me.”

Donghae opened his mouth to retort, but Hyukjae was gone, the sound of his cheeky laugh echoing in Donghae’s mind.

Donghae turned to his empty house, thinking about all the ways the spotlight had made him into a robot; with scheduled times and little free will on his image in public, and of course, the expectation for him to factory produce good music as if it was so easy as pressing buttons and placing them on conveyor belts to deliver to the next consumer. 

Then he heard Hyukjae’s laugh, and he comes alive at the sound of it, craving for the next time he may hear his voice. 

_Tomorrow_ had never sounded so promising until now.

Class was a little bit slow. Hyukjae was in a group activity, doing his part of the work, when one of his group members, Byunghun, sat beside him. 

The two of them checked each other’s answers, and when they were winding down, Byunghun’s dark, inquisitive eyes were on Hyukjae’s pale face.

“Are you really getting help from the professor?” Byunghun asked casually. 

Hyukjae glanced up, trying to keep up a civil face. “Yeah.”

“How did you do that?” Byunghun prodded, leaning closer to Hyukjae. “He’s so cold.”

Hyukjae felt his shoulders tense. His line of his mouth tightened, and he didn’t expect the feelings of jealousy towards the prospect of Donghae teaching another student privately. He didn’t want to think about that.

“Just email him. Come to his office hours,” Hyukjae replied carelessly, trying to brush off Byunghun’s attention. 

Byunghun nodded enthusiastically. “Thanks. You’re the best.”

Hyukjae was glad that Donghae called back their attention. 

During lectures, Donghae tried not to let his obvious joy show. He kept seeing Hyukjae, taking notes on the way he pouted, or on the way he yawned. When left to his own thoughts, he named these new feelings as an infatuation, and that was all there was to it. Hyukjae would graduate, and he would get over it eventually, but the thought makes him sad. 

He didn’t want to get over it.

He thought about the time he got to hold his hand, and he still remembered how it felt under his palm. He remembered wanting to hold his precious hands again.

Donghae sighed. 

_I don’t think I’ll recover from this_. 

_Hey, I have to attend a family thing so I can’t make it today. I’ll see you tomorrow!_ Hyukjae texted his professor.

He didn’t wait for a reply, and pushed open the doors of his family’s mansion. Hyukjae thought that it would be in Sungmin’s club, but the venue got moved last minute because of some miscommunication, and here he was. Immediately, as soon as he caught whiff of the expensive perfumes around him, the suit he was wearing began to tighten. His fingers go to the scarf around his neck, and when he finally took a proper look at it, he realized that it did not belong to him. Someone approached him and took his outerwear from him, and Hyukjae gravitated towards the crowd, looking for his brother’s friendly face. 

“Hyukjae!” He heard someone call him. 

Hyukjae turned to the sound, and he saw Kyuhyun sauntering towards him, his hand around a glass of champagne. 

“Kyuhyun!” Hyukjae exclaimed, forgetting his worries for a moment. “It’s been a while!”

Kyuhyun winked. “Come on, your brother is waiting for you.”

Kyuhyun steered him through the crowd, and Hyukjae grabbed a drink from one of the waiters milling around. 

“I didn’t get to ask you, but are you keeping contact with that professor of yours?” Kyuhyun asked him loudly. 

Hyukjae nodded at some people who recognized him. “Yeah…I asked him to teach me,” he confessed.

Kyuhyun bursted out laughing. It sounded ridiculous to him. “Well, he’s difficult. Good luck with that.”

Hyukjae smiled secretly, and Kyuhyun noticed it.

“Oh my god,” Kyuhyun deadpanned. “He accepted? But that guy is an ass!”

Hyukjae laughed. “He is, but he’s not that bad. He’s actually pretty nice.”

Kyuhyun rolled his eyes. “I said, go and introduce yourself to him, and build a good student-teacher relationship, not chase after him.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“Hyukjae!” 

Hyukjae turned to the sound of his brother’s voice, and before he could properly look, Sungmin was crushing him with his arms. Hyukjae felt his ribcage close, and he wriggled from Sungmin’s grip.

Sungmin ruffled his hair playfully. “Oh, you. I missed you so much!”

Hyukjae smiled sheepishly. “I missed you too.”

Sungmin sighed happily, and he put his hands on top of Hyukjae’s shoulders. “You look skinnier.”

Hyukjae rolled his eyes. “I’ll make up for it by stuffing my mouth tonight.”

Sungmin laughed, and then, he turned serious. “You should go talk to dad.”

Hyukjae shook his head. “No.”

“Come on. Make up with him already. You have to make it to my wedding!” Sungmin expressed, frowning a little bit. “You’re my only brother.” 

Hyukjae glanced at Kyuhyun, looking for help, but he only shrugged. He looked at Sungmin’s soft, pleading eyes, and he found himself groaning internally. 

“Fine,” Hyukjae said. “I’m doing this for you, but if it doesn’t work out, don’t bother me about it.”

Sungmin grinned. “You can do it!” He turned and scanned the crowd. “Look, he’s with his business buddies, go!”

Hyukjae begrudgingly made his way towards his father, who was raising his own glass of champagne for some small toast. As his father lowered his glass, he spotted Hyukjae, and his demeanor turned serious. 

Hyukjae waited just outside the cluster of his father’s people, his foot tapping nervously. 

When Hyukjae’s father excused himself from his crowd, Hyukjae willed himself to stay still. 

“Hyukjae,” his father said. He sounded so forlorn. Maybe it was from the distance that Hyukjae immediately put between them when he decided to pursue music. 

“Father,” Hyukjae stated, unable to recognize his own voice.

“How are you?” His father continued. 

“I’m okay.”

“How are your classes?”

“I’m managing them.”

“Good.”

Hyukjae glanced sideways, ready to bolt out of there. “Look, father, I just…came here to say that I apologize for our last argument.”

His father’s face immediately relaxed. “Oh, so you’ve decided.”

Hyukjae nodded. “Yes.”

His father put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad. There will be an open position for you once you graduate.”

Hyukjae stopped at this. “No, father, I…meant, I’ve decided to continue pursuing music. I’ve done everything else you asked, but I really, really want this.”

Hyukjae watched his father’s face drastically change. 

“Your brother is about to take over my position, I need you to be there to support him,” his father said, bringing back his points from their last argument. “I’ve given everything to you. I’ve laid it all out.”

Hyukjae swallowed. They would always be on different pages. “Father,” he called, his voice soft. 

“I will not have a son who will not take care of my legacy,” his father snapped. “It is your future, too, Hyukjae. It is ensured, what more could you ask for? Do you even know what it is you want? Last time I checked, you needed my money! Do you think you can stand alone?”

Hyukjae stepped back a little, feeling his throat close. Several eyes glanced at them, and Hyukjae felt embarrassed. No matter how many times he would explain himself, his father would never understand. He would never get his support.

“I have to go,” Hyukjae felt tears prickling his eyes, and he blinked them away. 

Hyukjae turned away, his father’s disappointed eyes engraved into his memory. He fought his way towards the exit, demanding to one of the staff to fetch his things. He had a brief memory of donning his coat and running out of the mansion, with the cold air hitting him. 

He swallowed the hurt, and resisted the urge to cry. 

It was all a blur to him, until he was right in front of Donghae’s door, until he was pressing on the doorbell numerous times. 

The door opened, and Donghae stood in the way, his eyes immediately scanning Hyukjae. 

“Hyukjae,” Donghae called tenderly, his voice a cushion to Hyukjae, who was trying his best to keep it together.

“I have your scarf,” Hyukjae said brokenly. 

“Hey, what is it?” Donghae asked, shivering slightly from the cold air. “What’s wrong?”

Donghae took a step forward, and suddenly, Hyukjae fell apart, eyes gushing with tears, and a cry from his mouth that felt like a stabbing to Donghae’s heart. 

Donghae didn’t need to think. He immediately received Hyukjae into his arms, and held him in securely, glaring into the night as if the culprit was just right behind Hyukjae. His hand come up to the back of his neck, and he felt Hyukjae clutching onto him tightly. 

Hyukjae cried, and cried, the sounds raw and so sharp, that Donghae could only hold him tighter. 

He wanted to stop his pain. He wanted to take his pain away, to put it inside himself instead, because it did not belong in Hyukjae's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Piacere" means "to your pleasure" or "at your will."


	5. Amoroso

Hyukjae stirred from his sleep, and slowly, it started to register on his mind that there was a heavy weight around his waist, and that he could hear someone’s heartbeat, and feel their breath on top of his head. He recalled the events from last night, and though he tried to shove it all down like he has been doing for the past years, it bubbled back up in waves, threatening to pull him down. When he snuggled closer to the warmth that enveloped him, the body next to him jerked, and the weight around his waist lifted. 

Hyukjae whined, and he pulled the body closer, wanting and needing the contact. Maybe it was wrong, but he just wanted to feel something other than hurt. 

“Hyukjae,” Donghae murmured, his voice deep and soothing, like a hum of a lullaby. 

“Just hold me,” Hyukjae whispered, tucking his head in between the space of Donghae’s neck and shoulder. 

Hesitantly, Donghae wrapped his arms around Hyukjae again, and adjusted his position so that Hyukjae would be more comfortable. 

“Hyukjae,” Donghae repeated, although he did not want to let go. 

“Hold me,” Hyukjae pleaded with him, clutching his side. 

Donghae caressed Hyukjae’s hair, his heart beating quickly. He marveled at how soft his hair felt, and how his skin against his own felt like a soft, satin blanket. He let his heart enjoy this moment to the fullest, completely content that Hyukjae was in his arms. He knew that he may not get another chance to hold him, so for now, he doesn’t think of anything else but him. Like how his skin against his sets a fire inside him, making feel more awake than ever. He could run for miles just from this feeling alone.

He sighed, when he felt Hyukjae’s soft snores against his neck. 

Hyukjae knew it was unfair. It was unfair for Donghae, who had received him without any complaints, who let him take his time in his house that Hyukjae identified as some sort of safe house. However, how was he supposed to act normally In front of his professor, who saw him in such a vulnerable state? Normally, he would be calm, and he would even joke around even if he felt hurt, or just find a private space to think about his feelings and actions. He didn’t know why he had to run to him in the first place, but at that moment, he just needed to be held. 

As he was leaving class, he texted Ryeowook. 

_Wanna go clubbing?_

_Sure._ Ryeowook replied a few minutes later. 

In the club, with the flashing lights and loud bass music, Hyukjae bought drinks for himself and Ryeowook. It has been a while since he last saw his friend, and a part of him felt bad. He had been too caught up with school and with his silent, low-key crush for his music professor, that sometimes he forgets. Sungmin had told him many times that he was always like that. Once he made up his mind, it was hard to make him change. 

“So, your professor keeping you busy?” Ryeowook asked him, checking out the people that are passing them. 

“He’s…something,” Hyukjae almost had to yell because of the music. “I missed you, by the way!”

Ryeowook smiled in delight. “You know, you could have just come to my house and crashed there. This place is too loud.”

Hyukjae shrugged. “You know, I kinda like this atmosphere…it’s easy to lose yourself.”

Ryeowook studied Hyukjae closely. “What’s wrong with you?”

Hyukjae swirled the alcohol in his glass. 

Ryeowook sighed, and sets his drink down. “What?” He snapped.

“My father and I had another fight, in Sungmin’s bachelor party or whatever, and I went to his house…” Hyukjae said, watching Ryeowook’s eyes widen. “And then, we…cuddled?”

Ryeowook sighed in relief. “Cuddled? So what? I thought you had sex with him or something.”

Hyukjae stared at him incredulously. “What?” 

Ryeowook chuckled. “Nothing, nothing. Forgive me. I get ahead of myself.”

Hyukjae sighed. “And I told him to keep holding me.”

Ryeowook raised an eyebrow. 

“I think…he likes me,” Hyukjae murmured, his eyes going to the dance floor. 

Ryeowook leaned closer. “I’m sorry, what?”

Hyukjae felt his heart racing. “Nothing,” he exclaimed. “It’s nothing.”

Ryeowook looked at him, doubtful. “Okay, Hyukjae.” 

Hyukjae glanced at the dance floor again, and took a deep breath. He gestured at the crowd, and Ryeowook nodded, content to watch his friend make a fool out of everyone dancing on the floor. He was a little worried though, because he knows that Hyukjae could get a little obsessive when he wants something finished. 

Hyukjae has been ignoring him for days. He wanted to approach the younger and ask him if something is wrong, but he also understood why. He’s a student, and he is racing to finalize his assignments and pass his other classes. However, he was also brooding over the fact that he may not be able to see Hyukjae until next year. He also understood if Hyukjae does not want to be near him. Although his rational mind was saying this, he couldn’t forget about the way Hyukjae felt inside his arms, how Hyukjae reached for him and made him feel needed. Donghae now knew what it felt to be too close to him, and now he was craving for the next moment, like an addict risking it all to have that one fix. He tried to convince himself that it would all pass. Winter would wash these fiery feelings and leave him cold again. 

But he didn’t want to be cold anymore. He had lived and wasted years because of himself. 

At_ least use all your frustration and create something. Use him as your muse._

Henry’s voice repeated in his mind, loud and clear, and this prompted him to unearth his music notebooks, and he sat in front of his piano, staring at the keys. Nothing comes to him, but he felt his mind running. He rested his forehead on the piano, sighing. 

However, if there was one thing he could take away from this, he realized that for the first time, he actually wanted to write again. He doesn’t know what this would come to, but he is certain that what he will make will be something that came from his heart, something that he himself can appreciate. 

The mid-terms came like a hurricane. Papers were submitted to him, the stack on his desk building like a tower, and each student occupied his time for about ten minutes, where they performed a piece from the list that they have been learning, and a small composition that they could build up for the recital next year. He and Henry watched these students like judges, with rubrics laid out in front of them. When it was Hyukjae’s turn, Henry had glanced at Donghae, but he didn’t react because the rest of the world fell away. It was just him in the audience, with a lone spotlight shining down on Hyukjae up on the stage. He had heard his composition before, and he easily lost his train of thought in the melody. 

The only indication of it being over was Henry standing up to clap. Donghae glanced at his teacher assistant, and then he stared at Hyukjae, who seemed to be pouting as he put all of his things away. 

He was tempted to call after him, to ask him about anything really, just to hear his soft voice, but he lets him step through the threshold. He could sense Henry mocking him, but he lets it be. Maybe this was for the best.

He was wrong.

Hyukjae came to him on a snowy day near Christmas, where ice and snow had layered on the ground. He was in his doorstep, nervous and shivering, crystal flakes on his eyelashes and his bangs. Donghae could only stare in surprise, and he resisted to stand on his toes from the anticipation. 

“Hi, Donghae,” Hyukjae greeted hesitantly. 

Donghae took a deep breath, his heart jumping when Hyukjae had said his name. “Hi, Hyukjae.”

“Did you stop playing and writing because you were lonely?” Hyukjae immediately fired at him. “Or was it because you started losing yourself that you forgot how good it felt to play music?”

Donghae’s expression melted from his face, and his lips parted a little. 

Hyukjae begged with his eyes for an answer. “Why did you stop? I looked up to you. You were amazing-you were everything to me. I wanted to be you.” His voice sounded defeated.

Donghae licked his suddenly dry lips, and then he stepped aside. He gestured at Hyukjae to come in. 

“No, I won’t be long. I just want some answers,” Hyukjae said, his voice sounding tiny. 

Donghae sighed, and he looked past Hyukjae’s face. “You’re right.”

Hyukjae’s face twisted with hurt, and Donghae felt his heart clench.

“I don’t want to be like you.”

“When I wrote,” Donghae began, just in case Hyukjae decided to run and he would never get to hear his reasons. “I always put myself into my music, and I wrote, one after another. I handed pieces of myself to everyone, and the more I gave, I felt so empty. There was nothing left for me, the moment I leave the stage.”

“You were pressured to be something you were not,” Hyukjae whispered, somehow understanding Donghae. “They wanted more of you, but they only wanted Lee Donghae on the stage.”

Donghae gestured for Hyukjae to come in, and finally, Hyukjae accepted. He followed the younger into his living room, where the two of them sat on the couches, Hyukjae on one end, and Donghae on the other. 

“My family, or mostly my father…he wanted me to go into his business, but that’s not what I want for myself. It’s hard to fight for myself, for my dreams. I just wanted their support,” Hyukjae continued. “I looked up to you, because I know that you also went through a lot of hardships. But when you stopped…”

Hyukjae cleared his throat, and fiddled with his fingers. 

“When you stopped, I felt so lost.”

Donghae leaned back on the couch, and all he wanted to do was pull him into an embrace. 

“Don’t be like me,” Donghae finally said. “Keep going, keep hoping for something better. Keep that life inside of you, don’t let it die.”

Hyukjae finally looked into Donghae’s eyes, feeling the sincerity from his voice. He was trying to figure something out, but it all became clear when Donghae immediately looked away from him. 

“Come here,” Donghae stood up, and he walked towards the bookshelves against the wall. He picked up the book that held his music pieces inside, and he sat in front of his piano. Hyukjae goes to one side of the grand piano, and leaned on it, observing Donghae. 

Hyukjae just watched as Donghae started to play, his hands poised over the keys like he would do in a performance. He held his breath as Donghae continued, each note mesmerizing him. When he finished, Hyukjae excitedly sat beside him. 

“That was your first piece, right?” Hyukjae asked. “You play it differently now, though.”

Donghae gazed at Hyukjae softly, the corners of his eyes softening. "Yeah, I was a bit immature back then. I overdid my style too, exaggerating my actions on unimportant parts."

Hyukjae nodded. "I noticed. Your compositions started getting complex."

Each second that Hyukjae spent with Donghae was solidifying something that he had realized a while ago. 

“Want to play a duet?” Donghae asked quietly, noticing that Hyukjae was staring at him for a long time. 

Hyukjae grinned, wringing out the nervousness from his hands by shaking them, and occupied the space beside Donghae. 

Donghae flipped several pages of the book. Their shoulders are now fully touching, and their arms occasionally brushed against each other. 

“Ready?” Donghae says with a hushed, deep tone. 

Hyukjae swallowed, his fingers tingling and threatening to turn numb. Excitement made his head feel dizzy, and when Donghae’s fingers brushed against his, it sent a jolting electricity through his body. They started to play together, racing across the piano tiles, and often ghosting over each other’s fingers. They glanced at each other secretly, wanting, yearning. Their hearts beat with the tempo of the song, loud in their ears and fast inside their chests. 

When the song was finished, Donghae turned to Hyukjae, and at the same time, Hyukjae held his gaze, not wanting him to avert. 

“That was amazing,” Hyukjae commented, his voice almost hoarse. 

“Thank you, Hyukjae.” Donghae thought that he has a lot to be thankful for because of him. 

“I should go,” Hyukjae whispered, his breath fanning out towards Donghae as he leaned in closer. 

Suddenly, as if a force was pulling them to each other, their lips connected, hungrily and as if they have been deprived of food and water for days. Their minds slipped away from them, no longer conscious on who initiated the kiss. Donghae’s mind soared, as his hands go up to cup Hyukjae’s face. Their kiss was messy, but Donghae wanted to drink in Hyukjae, he wanted more of him because he made him feel so many things that filled him up to the point that sometimes, he felt like he would explode trying to hold it all in. 

Donghae pulled away, but Hyukjae chased after his lips, pressing closer to him, and Donghae relented by snaking his arms around his waist, rubbing his sides in circles. Hyukjae advanced some more, his hands going up to Donghae’s face, tilting his head and opening his mouth to allow him in, to kiss his breath away. 

Hyukjae finally pulled away from the kiss, breathless and wide-eyed. He had no words for what just happened between them, but it somehow, it felt right, like something had clicked into place. 

“You were right about everything. I stopped because of all those reasons,” Donghae told him. He glanced down at Hyukjae’s swollen lips, so red and wet against his pale skin. "And I could no longer feel the passion to write."

“I can help with that,” Hyukjae whispered, unable to control his thoughts. His thumb caressed Donghae’s cheek.

“Really, what makes you so confident?”

The corners of Hyukjae’s mouth quirked up. “Because you…like me?” 

Donghae chuckled, but then his eyes grew sad. “This can’t happen. You’re my student, and the university can blacklist us for pursuing this kind of relationship if they find out.”

“I’m not your student here, we’re just Donghae and Hyukjae…Hyukjae and Donghae.” Hyukjae’s lips part into a small smile that revealed his teeth. He was shy, and he felt his ears heat up. 

Donghae’s eyes go to Hyukjae’s lips, and he remembers Henry’s words to him. 

Hyukjae sighed, and he rubbed his face from embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Donghae, I should go,” Hyukjae finally said, gently removing his hand from Donghae’s face. “You’re right, and I don’t want to mess up what we have now.”

They both stand up, and Donghae’s hands go to Hyukjae’s waist, and pulled him closer, not wanting to let him go. He felt like he had let him walk away from him too many times. 

Donghae smiled shyly. “So, we’re just…Donghae and Hyukjae here. We can’t name it anything else.”

“I know.”

“And I won’t show favoritism anymore.”

“As if you did.”

“And no more staring.”

“You do most of the staring.” Hyukjae leaned closer, Donghae’s breath hitting his nose. 

“I’m giving you an out here,” Donghae muttered. He couldn’t deny the force that was pulling him closer and closer to Hyukjae. If Hyukjae won’t take this chance to get away, then he would really crave for him more; he was running out of stops. He rested his forehead against Hyukjae. “A clean slate.”

“If you still can’t write by the end of the next semester, then we can stop,” Hyukjae suggested, though the thought and its consequences scared him. 

Donghae swallowed nervously. He was finally holding Hyukjae-the only thing he’s been wanting to do, and he would be a fool if he allowed himself to let him go. 

“Deal.” Donghae inched closer, sealing the space between them. 

Hyukjae kissed him hotly, melting into him, his hands running over Donghae’s shoulders. Donghae pressed his hand against Hyukjae’s lower back, and Hyukjae moaned into his mouth as their crotches rubbed against each other. Taken by a blind passion, Hyukjae sneaked his hands underneath Donghae’s sweater, feeling his torso, pressing his palms over his abdomen, his chest, and his broad back. Donghae pushed back Hyukjae’s clothes, letting his coat fall to the floor, and then engulfed him into an embrace. 

When he woke up, Donghae had a brief recollection of Hyukjae going down to his knees, and unzipping his pants. He could still feel the slickness and the heat of his mouth, and when he turned to his side to find Hyukjae pressed against him, it dawned to him that yesterday wasn’t a dream. Everything happened so fast and in the heat of the moment. The warm, naked body beside him stirred, and he felt his heart race in a way that could only compare to the adrenaline he felt when performing-something he hasn’t felt for a long time now. 

Donghae slowly shifted so that he was facing Hyukjae, and he stared at the way his mouth formed into a small pout. He found it so adorable, and so innocent, a contrast to the way he acted last night; his sinful, red lips sucking his length inch by inch. If Hyukjae was the devil, he already sold his soul to him without getting anything back. 

With a tender smile playing on his lips, he took his hand and gently caressed Hyukjae’s face, his shoulder, then down to his waist and thigh. 

“Is this a dream?” Hyukjae murmured, pressing closer to Donghae. He slipped his legs between Donghae’s, and curled into him. 

“No,” Donghae replied, playing with his hair. “We’re very much real.”

“Good…” Hyukjae whispered with a mischievous tone. He took one leg and swung it over Donghae’s waist. “Touch me…” 

Donghae swallowed, and his hand paused on Hyukjae’s lower back. Hyukjae started to trail light kisses on his collarbone, and this made Donghae pull Hyukjae against him harshly. Hyukjae’s body rolled deliciously against him, and his leg around Donghae’s waist tightened so he could grind his crotch against his. Donghae becomes braver, and lets his hand wander way down, and he kneaded Hyukjae’s ass. 

“Shouldn’t we take it slow?” Donghae asked, a little doubtful. His forehead crinkled a little. 

Hyukjae giggled as Donghae squeezed his buttcheek. “You don’t have much time.”

Donghae sighed, and he hefted Hyukjae on top of him, so that the younger was now straddling him. “Are you actually this bossy?” 

Hyukjae took Donghae’s hands from his ass, and placed them on his waist. He grinned. “I could be, if you want. If you’re into that.”

Donghae moaned as Hyukjae started to tediously grind against him, hands on top of Donghae’s chest. Donghae felt his cock hardening, and he held down Hyukjae’s waist as he grinds back. 

Hyukjae leans forward, his lithe body covering Donghae, and gives him a full kiss, tongue insisting against lips and flicking against the other. Hyukjae smirks into the kiss, as he felt Donghae’s fingers slowly rubbing his puckered entrance. 

Hyukjae puts his lips against Donghae’s ear, licking it lightly. “Are you sure you can get it up, old man? We went pretty hard last night.” 

Donghae scoffed, squeezing Hyukjae’s ass playfully. “I’m not that old.”

Hyukjae giggled, and he stills for a moment, sitting fully on lap. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Hyukjae’s erection had stood up to his stomach, red and swollen, needing attention. He palmed Donghae, and rubbed his own cock against his, smearing the precum all over their shafts. The sight made Donghae groan in need-last night’s events still fresh in his mind. He was very much excited. 

“Hyukjae,” he drawled out in a husky voice. 

Hyukjae chuckled, liking the power he has over Donghae. “Okay, get that,” he told Donghae, gesturing at the lube just above their pillows. He poured a generous amount of lube into his palm, and stroked Donghae’s cock, making sure to do it with his wrist twisting slightly each time he reaches near the base. 

Hyukjae aligned the head of Donghae’s cock by his entrance, holding his breath as it protruded his hole. Donghae gritted his teeth as he watched Hyukjae’s head get thrown back and his mouth open in a silent moan when he was fully seated on his dick. Hyukjae had let out a gasp, his eyes scrunching shut as he felt Donghae throbbing inside him, filling him up. He took a deep breath, adjusting to the thick size inside him. He thought that last night might have at least helped him get used to it, but he was wrong. 

Hyukjae started to move, rolling his hips languidly, his breath leaving him harshly and hotly. Donghae braced his heels on the bed and thrusts up into him, earning a loud, drawled out moan from Hyukjae. 

Donghae bit his lip, concentrating his thrusts to hit that one spot that sends Hyukjae screaming his name. His hand reached down to grab Hyukjae’s pretty cock to stroke him, which was bouncing on his abdomen with every move the younger made. 

When they finished, Hyukjae slowly lowered himself on top of Donghae’s torso, heaving a little from the morning sex. Donghae’s hand found its way to his soft hair, and the two of them laughed. 

“Yeah, we should take it slow,” Donghae murmured, tickling the side of Hyukjae’s skin. He smiled without restraint as he felt Hyukjae murmur something incoherently, and was led to sleep. 

Hyukjae turned up in his house two days later with a small suitcase, and a toothbrush in hand. Donghae grinned at him amusedly, his head tilted to one side as the younger held out the toothbrush towards him. Hyukjae pulled his suitcase in, and Donghae immediately received him into his arms. He buried his nose on Hyukjae’s neck, inhaling the scent that had entangled itself in his house. When he pulled away, he gave Hyukjae a quick kiss on the lips, but in truth, he wanted to ravage them the moment he saw Hyukjae walk in. 

“What are we doing?” Hyukjae inquired in singsong as he set his suitcase and toothbrush aside. 

Donghae walked towards the kitchen. “We’ll eat, watch movies…”

Hyukjae licked his lips, and he smiled, pleased that they are going to have a relaxed evening. “Like a date?” His eyebrows go up excitedly. 

Donghae shrugged. “Yeah…I’m sorry that it has to be like this, though.”

Hyukjae gave Donghae an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me? This will be the best date ever!”

Donghae laughed, his mouth opening willingly to let out the sound. “You flatter me, Hyukjae.”

Hyukjae winked as he discarded his coat neatly, and then followed Donghae into the open kitchen, helping him set up for dinner. “I think I’m also promised something else, so.”

Donghae scoffed, and he rolled his eyes. “How are you so innocent and so dirty at the same time?”

Hyukjae shrugged, trying to hide his smile. “It’s a mystery.”

Donghae observed Hyukjae, from the way his hands grabbed the plates and aligned them on the table, and the way the small smile on his face never seemed to leave. In a way, he was right. Though it seemed so easy to get to know Hyukjae, there were depths in his mind that he has yet to touch. 

Donghae brought the food on the table, then sneaked his hands around Hyukjae’s waist. 

“Are you sure about spending winter break here? Don’t you want to spend time with your family?” Donghae asked him. He felt Hyukjae lean back against him. 

“No…I don’t want to face them yet,” Hyukjae replied, resting his hands on top of Donghae’s arms. It felt so natural and easy for him to do this. 

“You will have to someday,” Donghae kissed his cheek and lets him go. “For now, think of something what you want to say to them. Gather your courage. You can't ignore them forever.”

Hyukjae sighed, grateful to listen to Donghae’s words of advice. For now, he’ll spend this time in comfort, with Donghae. 

Donghae’s empty house was starting to feel full. There was laughter every day, and messes to be cleaned up-like Donghae’s piles of laundry which Hyukjae shook his head at, unimpressed; or the dusty bookshelves, and even their fingerprint smudges on the piano tiles. Donghae had Hyukjae to cook with, to play the piano with, to watch and marathon cheesy movies all night with. There were so many things to do together. They even brush their teeth together, and grinned at each other through the mirror. 

Donghae had an aching feeling that this could end soon, as he had not made any progress with writing music, but he was determined to fight for Hyukjae. He knew he was probably getting ahead of himself, but he wanted to have these moments with him for a long time. 

He will get himself together. He will gather all the pieces of himself and make himself a worthy man for Hyukjae. 

They rarely went outside unless they had to go shop for groceries, but they were content to be enclosed in the four walls of Donghae’s house, surrounded by snow. 

There were plenty of things to talk about too. Hyukjae told him of his background, growing up with old money. Donghae told Hyukjae how he had to work early in his age because his parents had kicked him out of the house. They held no judgements, and they had understood each other, though their beginnings were of different worlds. There was no competition of who had the worst pain. 

Hyukjae lied on top of Donghae, wearing nothing but the oversized sleeveless shirt that he took from Donghae’s closet. He closed his eyes as he felt Donghae’s fingers smoothing his hair, and he pressed his ear against Donghae’s chest to hear his steady heartbeat. 

“I talk to you in my mind, you know,” Hyukjae murmured, feeling his voice vibrate through Donghae’s chest. “When I’m having a hard time, or in need of a friend, I imagined that you talked back to me.”

Donghae paused, finding the confession a little childish, but he also found it adorable coming out from Hyukjae’s mouth. “That’s kinda creepy.”

Hyukjae laughed. “Maybe, but in my worst nights, you were there. You felt so familiar to me.”

Donghae held on to Hyukjae, and he shifted slowly so that he was now lying beside him on the couch. Donghae’s back faced the edge, blocking Hyukjae from falling. 

“I’m here now,” Donghae whispered. “You can talk to me all the time.”

Hyukjae stared into Donghae’s eyes, a little overwhelmed. Donghae’s eyes were shiny, like he was one second away from tearing up. He probably was.

Hyukjae leaned forward to peck his eyes. “Good.”

“Really?”

“Yeah…”

“I may need you all the time.”

Hyukjae rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

Donghae smothered Hyukjae with kisses, trapping him in the little space they had on the couch. 

That night, they watch the snow gather by Donghae’s windows, smiling contentedly. It was a very cold night, and maybe they were wrong to build this little bubble of happiness around them, but winter has never been so warm. 

Hyukjae felt Donghae’s intense stare at the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. He kept playing piece after piece under his scrutiny, only interrupting when he wanted him to play a part in a specific way, but when Hyukjae started playing some of his older music, Donghae grew silent. 

He kept playing anyway, and started messing around with the pieces, improvising some parts and making them into his own music. He rarely did this with the pieces he played, but it was something that he did a long time ago when he didn’t want to do the work his private piano tutor assigned him. 

He added his own playful flavor to Donghae’s mellow, and even sorrowful compositions. He found some of them romantic, and he messed with them, cutting out the essential parts and adding his own until it sounded unrecognizable. 

When he finished, he hears glass being set down on a wooden surface. 

Hyukjae turned, and he met Donghae’s burning gaze. 

“What did you do?” Donghae asked, but it wasn’t from horror. It was from wonder. His heart was breaking a little, but it was the kind of heartbreak that came from marveling at a beauty. 

Hyukjae stood up, unsure of what else to tell him. Donghae closed the gap between them in a few strides, and suddenly, he caught his plump lips, pushing tongue through his mouth. Donghae was addicted to his lips, to the way that he makes him feel-everything about him really. He wanted to taste him everywhere, explore each space that brings pleasure to him. He felt Hyukjae submitting to his kiss, opening his mouth wider, and tilting his head to grant more access. He flicks his tongue against Hyukjae’s and continues to suck it, slowly backing him up into his bedroom. 

Hyukjae clung to Donghae, his arms around his neck, as their steps matched with each other. Donghae clutched Hyukjae’s face urgently, wanting and needing him even more as Hyukjae melted against him. 

Donghae trapped Hyukjae against the door, breathing harshly against his neck, then started to lick and suck on one area. Hyukjae moaned, his head bumping on the door behind him as his hand wanders to the side, trying to find the doorknob. When he twisted the door open, they both fell towards the room. Hyukjae caught himself, and then Donghae chased after his lips again, this time his hands roaming to strip him off his clothing. Hyukjae does the same, almost ripping off the button up shirt that the other was wearing. 

Donghae gathered Hyukjae into his arms, squeezing his enticing waist, and then groping his ass to push him even closer. 

Hyukjae pulled away a little to look at Donghae’s face, scanning it for any hesitation, but he finds none. He finds his reflection instead, and he reads Donghae like an open book. He saw his pain, the dwindling life in him, but he also saw his heart. It was still beating, and it still wants to keep beating. 

Donghae gently backs him to the bed, until he was lying there, naked and bare for Donghae to see. He felt a little shy because this time since they weren’t blind with passion. Donghae had set the tone for them to take their time. 

Hyukjae slowly stretched on top of the bed, and then bent his body to lie prostrated before Donghae. One moment later, he felt the bed dip from his weight as Donghae positioned himself in between his legs, and felt Donghae’s lips on his tailbone, ghosting over the skin. Hyukjae shivered from the anticipation, feeling his body heat as Donghae kept caressing his waist. Then a little bit later, he felt Donghae’s warm, lubed up finger poking his hole, and he moans from desire. 

Donghae poured more lube, and rubbed his entrance, before finally entering him slowly. He does it tediously, while reaching to stroke Hyukjae’s aroused cock. 

Donghae thrusts his finger in and out, staring in wonder at the way Hyukjae’s entrance sucked his finger in. He slowly adds another finger, and uses his other hand to push one of Hyukjae’s thighs to open him wider. 

Hyukjae moaned, his eyes fluttering close as he fucked himself on Donghae’s fingers. 

“Hm, Donghae,” Hyukjae gasped, reaching down to stroke himself. His thighs trembled as Donghae’s fingering sent goosebumps racing up and down his spine. He felt light-headed from lust, and he pushed himself harder into Donghae’s fingers. 

He cried as Donghae hit his prostate, and he stopped stroking himself, and instead just held on to his cock to keep himself from finishing. It wouldn’t be fair to Donghae.

Donghae continued to watch the way Hyukjae skillfully rolled into his fingers, but he wanted more. He noticed how erratic Hyukjae’s breathing was, and he pulled his fingers out, a frown crinkling his forehead. 

“I want to see you,” Donghae murmured in a husky voice. He gently guided Hyukjae to his back, and then hovered over him. 

“Hurry up,” Hyukjae snapped impatiently. 

Donghae chuckled, and leaned back to coat his shaft with more lube. Hyukjae opened his legs wider, offering him more access. 

“So eager,” Donghae commented, as he poked Hyukjae’s entrance with the head of his dick. He slowly entered him, and he groans from the hot friction receiving him. 

In return, Hyukjae was also moaning, digging his fingers into the sheets underneath him. 

Donghae’s face tightened up, as he watched Hyukjae’s hole take more of his length. “Fuck,” he cursed, his hands gripping Hyukjae’s thighs. “Why are you so tight?” He gasped. 

Hyukjae had the energy to smirk, and he uses his legs to pull Donghae even closer. He whimpered as Donghae filled him up to the brim, the intrusion not strange, but still so thick that he felt like he was about to be split open. 

“I haven’t had some…in a while,” Hyukjae gasped, as Donghae experimentally thrusted into him. “You could say I was closing my legs for you.”

Hyukjae’s dirty talk earned him a swift thrust, and the breath was knocked out of his lungs. 

Donghae held on to Hyukjae’s hips, slamming into him tenaciously, and increasing his rhythm. He breathes harshly, but he doesn’t cry out, instead he frowned even harder, his jaw tightening as he drove himself deeper into Hyukjae. Meanwhile, Hyukjae arches under him, crying out a string of curses. Hyukjae searched for something to hold on to as Donghae slammed into him again and again, hitting him right at the spot. 

Suddenly, Donghae slowed down, and Hyukjae felt Donghae’s hand around his leaking cock. 

“What-what are you doing?!” Hyukjae exclaimed, his whole body wet from his sweat.

“Are you okay?” Donghae asked him, but he gave him a playful smile. 

Hyukjae glared at him. “Yes, yes, fuck, just take me! Take over me, make me scream your name!” He growled out of frustration. 

Donghae was happy to comply, and he rammed himself even harder inside Hyukjae, pulling almost all the way out, only to force himself deeper. He reached over and pinched one of Hyukjae’s brown nipples, earning a whine from him. 

“Fuck, yes!” Hyukjae screamed, finding purchase on Donghae’s shoulders. 

The pillows were falling off from the bed, and the sheets were being pushed off as Donghae continued to fuck Hyukjae mercilessly. The spread under them start to twist, and it was already wrinkled from Hyukjae’s grip. 

“Donghae,” Hyukjae murmured without thought, his eyes rolling to the back of his head from the pleasure. He felt his whole body burning, but he couldn’t find any better way to douse the fire. 

Donghae watched as Hyukjae’s body spasmed underneath him, his back arching like there was a cage beast inside, trying to come out and unleash hell. Beads of sweat trickle down Hyukjae’s pale forehead, going down his temple and to his sharp jaw. He sees his mouth open wide in agonizing pleasure, screaming only his name. Donghae gritted his teeth as their rhythm grew inconsistent, sensing that he was close. 

Hyukjae’s arms go around his neck, pulling Donghae closer. Their chests meet heatedly, and Hyukjae rolled his body down to receive Donghae again. 

Donghae automatically found his mouth, and gives him a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Hyukjae shouted and moaned variations of his name, and he lost the ability to speak coherently. All he could think of was Donghae, and how good he felt inside him, his cock hard and pulsating as he pounded his consciousness away. He felt himself moving upwards, and he could only hold on to Donghae. 

As Donghae felt himself going over the edge, he thought about Hyukjae’s voice. His cries and whimpers were better than music. This was better than any compositions that he’s ever heard. Hyukjae is writhing underneath him, eyes half-lidded and drunk in pleasure. 

Nothing could come close to the voice that sends him into absolution.

Hyukjae cried and moaned, oversensitive from holding in his cum. His release was a relief, like a breath of fresh air, but it left him tired and unable to think.

Donghae knows that he’s in love when he finds Hyukjae’s stare, imploring and tempting at the same time. He knows that he’s in love when all he wants is this man’s eyes on him as he plays. He wants only his praise and applause. 

When Hyukjae is naked and asleep under his bedsheets, He sits up and turns on the lamp on top of his bedside table. His fingers were enclosed around a pen, and on his lap was a notebook full of empty staffs-pages after pages consisting of five horizontal lines and four spaces. 

Occasionally, he glanced at Hyukjae’s sleeping face, and finally, he guided his pen with on the crisp papers. 

As if reaching a finish line, he writes down a small tune. 

A tune that developed into several measures, all with the intention of making love to Hyukjae. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The word "amoroso" translates to "with love."
> 
> also pls leave some comments :) let me know your thoughts, reactions, critiques...or grace this chapter with your presence
> 
> thank you all :)


	6. Cadenza

The soft morning light fell through the parted curtains of the wide windows of Donghae’s room. Sleep was a far-fetched thought, as Donghae wrote the last few remaining notes on the paper. It was scratch, if he had to be honest. They were just ideas, scrambling around to come together for a main point, but he was finally writing. All night long, he had looked at Hyukjae, noticing features of him that he has not noticed before. Moles decorated his body, on his back, and also on his arms, even on his neck and face. He also noticed that Hyukjae also pouts in his sleep. An adorable sight, really.

On the wrinkled bedsheets-the evidence of their rough lovemaking-were crumpled pieces of paper, and when Donghae shifted to move out of the bed, they fell to the ground with soft thuds. He turned off the lamp beside him, and then adjusted the blanket that was wrapped around Hyukjae’s body. 

He donned some new clothes, and when he was about to step out, he glanced at Hyukjae again, his heart tugging at the sight of him on his bed. 

Donghae set his notebook on the music rack, and sat on the piano bench to play out the notes that he had written. Part of him felt sluggish, but he also felt so uplifted. Being with Hyukjae had revitalized his feelings, and he never felt more alive. Finally, there was a goal in his mind. He felt purpose churning his mind, and it produced the written notes on his notebook. 

It was a familiar sight-the filled staffs with his erratic handwriting on the side, the abundance of flats and a few sharps here and there, and finally, the variety of notes, ranging from quarter notes to sixteenth notes, arranged in descending and ascending order. 

He was more than a musician now. He was making art. He was painting Hyukjae in each line, his essence etched into the sweet melody, that could maybe embody his voice, his youthful mannerisms. 

Donghae sighed, his fingers feeling the cool tiles as he played out the notes that he had written. They are yet to be arranged, and maybe rewritten, but the art is there. The heat from last night had not died down. Instead, he can feel the sensation racing throughout his body, from his fingers to his toes, and his playing becomes passionate. 

From time to time, he paused to correct something on his paper, or to redo a whole line. 

As he plays out a whole line, he felt warm hands crawling across his chest, then felt long limbs snaking around his torso.

“Good morning,” Hyukjae says in a velvet, singsong voice. “You writing?”

Donghae felt his lips on his neck, and he shivers from the contact. 

Donghae smiled, and he leaned back into Hyukjae’s embrace. “Finally, right?”

Hyukjae smirked, hands traveling south. “Hm…can I hear?” He whispered seductively. 

“It’s just scratch so far.”

“And since when did the Lee Donghae make scratches? Scratches means trash, and the last time I’ve heard, your music have always been beautiful.”

  
Donghae chuckled, deep and rumbling inside his chest. “You really flatter me.”

“I am your student, my grade may depend in it.”

“Ah, and here I thought you like me.”

Hyukjae giggled. “Please?” 

Donghae sighed, trying to hide his excitement, but Hyukjae sees the transparency of his eyes through his reflection on the music rack. He has been wanting to show him ever since he had started, like a little kid showing off his best drawing in class. He felt so giddy and young again, and it was possible thanks to Hyukjae. 

He started to play, but music teeters off as Hyukjae’s hands traveled further south, fingers slipping through his waistband. 

Donghae’s concentration broke when Hyukjae’s fingers suddenly encircled around his cock, lazily palming it. His tantalizing lips attached itself on his neck, nibbling, sucking. 

“Hyukjae,” Donghae called sternly. 

“What?” Hyukjae replied, unbothered. “Keep going.”

Donghae sighed again, this time, a little amused, but also very aroused. He started playing again, but some notes were played by mistake. He kept losing his focus, and he was pretty sure that Hyukjae was no longer hearing him play as he started stroking it quickly. 

One of Donghae’s hand fell slack, and he growled. His whole body was burning, and aching for Hyukjae again. It never seemed to stop. 

Not that he’s complaining. 

Donghae slammed the lid of the piano, and he yanked Hyukjae up, and pushed him against it. Hyukjae only grinned at him, his pupils dilated. Hyukjae sat himself on top of the lid, using the piano bench to brace his legs against. Donghae parted his legs, and ducked down to give him head. 

Hyukjae moaned, his voice echoing in the spacious house. 

Hyukjae felt the sharp edges of the grand piano digging on his back, and he grabbed on to Donghae’s hair as he sucked him tediously, his lips tightening around his cock as retreated from the base. 

Hyukjae’s moans got deeper and stronger, and when Donghae suddenly stopped, he whined. 

“Get up, and turn around,” Donghae commanded softly, but it left no room for objections. 

Hyukjae complied without any complaint, trusting and knowing that Donghae will take care of him. 

Donghae pushed him against the grand piano, forcing one of his legs up on top of the lid. Despite the call for a harsh dominance in the air, there was a gentleness that Hyukjae couldn’t pinpoint. Maybe it was the hot lips against his backbone, trailing down. He felt his ass getting parted, and Donghae’s tongue experimentally licking his tailbone, and finally, Donghae pressed his hot, slick muscle against his hole. 

Hyukjae whimpered, and he scrunched his eyes shut as he felt Donghae’s tongue slowly push through his hole. 

“Oh god,” Hyukjae moaned and he held on to the piano as Donghae started to thrust his tongue in and out. “Oh god, Donghae-“

Hyukjae choked on his words as Donghae pressed his tongue inside him. He felt Donghae’s hand kneading his ass, squeezing it and also gripping it to expose his asshole even more. 

Hyukjae couldn’t keep track of the words that he let out. He thought that he might just black out from the pleasure. 

“Fuck, that’s fucking dirty,” Hyukjae hissed as Donghae pulled his tongue from his ass. 

Donghae chuckled, and he pressed his body against Hyukjae. 

Hyukjae felt the leg on the piano lid growing numb. His erection also felt heavy and sensitive, and he just yearned for this man to take him right here, right now. 

“Ready?” Donghae whispered.

“Fuck yes,” Hyukjae groaned, and to prove it, he pushed his ass towards Donghae’s hard cock. 

Donghae kissed the bone that stood out on the back of his neck, and then, he mounts Hyukjae from behind, and he started to thrust into him shallowly. Hyukjae leaned towards the grand piano, feeling its edges digging on his skin again. 

Donghae slid his length into him rapaciously, driving himself deeper into Hyukjae until he was screaming and seeing white. 

Hyukjae didn’t care that one of his legs are numb, and that he would have etched lines across his torso from being pressed against the piano. He didn’t care about that it was probably filthy that he was coming all over Donghae’s piano. 

All that mattered was that after all this, Donghae would be there to hold him, to mutter stupid nonsense into his hear that has his heart beating an _allegro_. 

Winter would pass, but the time they reserved for each other here, inside these four walls, will always be there for them to revisit. 

The new semester doesn’t wash away the hot passion between them. In fact, it made them more desperate to find time to see each other, to get as close as possible without anyone noticing. The moment that they are safe inside Donghae’s house, they would always start their time together with a lot of lip-locking, and maybe even sex. 

On weekends, they spent their time together, studying and composing. Donghae would be on the piano, busy creating his new piece, while Hyukjae sat on the floor, his books and papers lying around on the coffee table. Occasionally, they would switch, and it would be Hyukjae’s turn on the piano while Donghae sat on the dining table or the couch to grade papers-most of it from the midterms because he was pretty distracted during winter break. 

On weekdays, Hyukjae left at night, with Donghae unwilling to let him go. They would spend minutes by the doorway, with Donghae begging him to stay, and Hyukjae trying not to look at his beguiling eyes that would make him say yes. 

Donghae’s house was becoming not just a rendezvous for them, but a second home for Hyukjae as well. Some of his clothes are there, and his scent lingered in Donghae’s bedsheets. He has an extra toothbrush next to Donghae’s toothbrush, and often did his laundry there. 

Donghae’s life suddenly felt full. His house was beginning to look more like, well, a house. It was messy in all the right places. 

And he was finally composing again. 

When he told his friend Choi Siwon about it, he was delighted, though he asked him to keep it quiet to get some privacy. He didn’t want the media on his back until he was finished. 

And he surely does not want to be disrupted whenever Hyukjae is with him. 

After class, Hyukjae would subtly wait for Donghae. He would slow down his walk, and pretend to browse through his phone by the doorway. This time, it was different because someone stood in his way. Byunghun blocked his path, and gave Hyukjae a smile. 

“Hey, do you think we can get together sometime? I need some help in my composition,” Byunghun said. 

Hyukjae kept his face neutral. “Um, let me think about it?”

Byunghun smiled. “Please? I know you’re close with the professor, so I just want some pointers. If he gave you some, then surely you can pass down some secrets as well?”

Hyukjae didn’t want to feel bad to reject him. He knew the feeling well. “Okay. Well, I’m busy for the next three weeks, since I have to finish my rough draft, but we can meet at the end of the month so you’ll have time to add some more.”

Byunghun nodded. “Yes, that will be great. Thank you so much.”

Hyukjae smiled awkwardly, and he watched as Byunghun bounded towards the exit. 

He sighed to himself. The other reason that he didn’t reject Byunghun was because he didn’t want Donghae’s time to be occupied by other people. He knew that it was unreasonable of him to do that, when it is literally Donghae’s job to teach and guide his students. In a way, that was his move to keep Donghae’s eyes on him. 

Donghae called Hyukjae in his office to talk about his grades. He didn’t expect Hyukjae to be gutsy and to literally give him a blowjob under his desk. 

After Hyukjae zipped his pants close, Donghae pulled Hyukjae on his lap. 

“I’m just saying, you need to get a very high mark for the final project,” Donghae murmured into Hyukjae’s ear, continuing where they left off before Hyukjae went down on his knees. 

Hyukjae hummed, resting his head on Donghae’s neck. “I know…”

“Okay, I’m going to let you go right now. We can’t be doing this outside of my house.”

“I know…”

“By the way, I’m not worried about your performances, so I’m pretty sure you’ll get a perfect score. Just do not slack off. For someone so hardworking and passionate, you’re so lazy.”

Hyukjae scoffed, hopping out off Donghae’s lap. 

Donghae gave him a stern look. “I mean it. No more messing around or getting lazy. You have my attention now, and if you get another bad grade, I’m going to have to ban you from my house.”

Hyukjae bit his lip, and gave Donghae a sultry look. “But can’t you do something and tweak my grade?” He pouted.

Donghae gave him a look of disbelief. “Hyukjae.”

“I’m kidding!” Hyukjae giggled and strode towards the door. “See you at home!” He winked at a flabbergasted Donghae, and quickly dashed out of the office.

That night, when Donghae fell asleep on the couch, Hyukjae couldn’t help but look at Donghae’s laptop where his students’ grades are recorded. He bit his lip and glanced at Donghae, making sure that he’s fully asleep.

Hyukjae sighed guiltily, as he scrolled through his own records. It would only take him one click to change his grades. 

For a second, he contemplated his options. Of course he wanted to be successful. He would do anything to guarantee that. 

Hyukjae bit his lip harder as the mouse hovered on top of his lowest grade. 

Could he do this to Donghae? This could ruin the two of them. 

_Shit_, Hyukjae mentally slapped himself. _Am I really this desperate now?_

He had no time to answer himself when he heard Donghae stir, and he jumped away from the laptop. 

He swallowed, when Donghae fell right back asleep. 

He can’t kiss this man and still keep this lie at the same time. 

So he went back to the original page where the roster of the class is displayed. He was desperate to succeed, but he would not dirty himself in the process. 

He steeled himself. 

_Get it together, Hyukjae_. 

Crumpled sheets with coffee stains decorated the floor around the grand piano. Time is invisible in their little cocoon, but it could be told through the shadows passing through the windows, moving by each tick of the clock. Donghae used to be very messy, and his current environment brought back memories of when he was younger. It even boosted his mood to keep on writing, accompanied by stolen looks of Hyukjae, of course. He also made Hyukjae play some certain parts of his music, just so he could observe the expression on his face, and memorize his posture. Hyukjae was not only the key of his music, but he _is_ the music itself. He wants to do him justice through this new song. 

After every play, they took turns at evaluating each other. 

Hyukjae was almost finished with his first draft of his composition, and had started making the final piece. Donghae was well on his way to do the same, but it required a lot of self-reflecting, and staring at Hyukjae. 

Hyukjae also found his inspiration to keep on writing his piece. Donghae was doing everything he could to help him, and if there is one person he wants to keep happy, it would be Donghae. He didn’t want to see his old self again, and he didn’t want him to go back to his world of black and white. He would do everything to keep that growing hearth in his eyes. 

Hyukjae took a deep breath, and rolled his shoulders a bit. The automatic doors in front of him swung open and close as people trickled in and out. He stared at the daunting, silver building, where his family name was attached to its top proudly. He wrapped his coat tighter around his waist, and tore one foot from the ground to put in front of him. 

Each step felt like an uphill battle, but when he finally made it to the doors, he found that his initial nervousness had been swallowed by a newfound bravery. He didn’t know what propelled him through the elevators and to the top floor of the building, but he holds on to that determination. 

He’s certainly going to need it. 

He greeted his father’s secretary behind the mahogany desk, and then he pushed through the heavy doors that led him to his father’s office. 

His father looked up from his desk, his thick glasses perched on his nose. 

Hyukjae stood up straight, a familiar stance that he had tried to forget long ago. 

“Hyukjae,” his father stated indifferently. 

Hyukjae took a deep breath again, his chest heaving up and down. “Father, I’ve come to negotiate.”

His father straightened up, and set the papers on his hand down. “I’m listening.”

Hyukjae nodded, and resisted the urge to fidget. “Please attend my piano recital in two months,” he started. 

His father frowned. 

“I am as stubborn as you, and there is no way I’m changing my mind,” Hyukjae continued, surprised that his voice remained even. He even met his father’s cold gaze. “However, I have always wanted to make you proud. If you think that my piano recital was a success, and that I am a stellar player, let me go, let me do my own thing. If not, then I will take a position here, and you will see me on my first day, and not a minute late.”

Hyukjae’s father folded his hands together, and rested his chin on top of it. Hyukjae gulped from his expression, but suddenly, his father smiled. 

“I’m glad I see something of mine in you,” his father said, clearly pleased. “It’s a deal.”

Hyukjae felt like he might cry at this second, but he strode forward confidently, and held out his hand. “Like all business deals, it must end with a handshake,” he said. “This is what you’ve taught me.”

His father stood up, and reciprocated. “Don’t let me down.”

Hyukjae nodded at Byunghun when he entered the piano room. The latter had brought drinks, and handed Hyukjae a cup of hot chocolate. They began by presenting their rough drafts with each other, then, Hyukjae took a closer look at what Byunghun composed.

“Your ideas are good,” Hyukjae began. “However, I feel like the climax of this song is a bit…average.”

Byunghun tilted his head, an eyebrow raised.

“Don’t get offended,” Hyukjae immediately said. “I think you should elaborate more on your idea, add something that makes it catchy or something.”

Byunghun nodded. “How do I do that?”

Hyukjae smiled, and he rested his hands on top of the keys. “Well…I’ll show you an example, but you have to do the rest on your own.”

“Okay!” Byunghun agreed, and he tuned in as Hyukjae began to play his piece.

When Hyukjae finished his demonstration, he let Byunghun have a moment to experiment with melodies. Byunghun was actually a brilliant composer as well, and Hyukjae felt jealous that he got to write it all down so easily. He began to doubt himself, but he keeps in mind that Donghae had praised him countless times. Not…Byunghun. 

He knew that it was kind of childish to think like that, and he would not advance if he keeps feeling like this. It was one of the reasons that got him to give Byunghun his time. Other than keeping him away from Donghae, of course. He needed to prove to himself that he was worthy of succeeding too. 

The two of them spent more time evaluating each other’s works back and forth, their papers spread around messily. It was way past seven pm when they had decided to stop, silently cleaning up, with Byunghun hastily arranging their papers into piles and Hyukjae busily replying to Donghae that he’s on his way.

Hyukjae looked up from his phone. “Hey, you don’t have to do that,” he said. 

Byunghun paused, and he smiled at Hyukjae. “Well, it’s my way of thanking you.”

Hyukjae pocketed his phone, and he started to arrange his things as well. “Do you have any questions, or any other thing you want to ask of me?”

Byunghun shook his head, his eyes forming into small crescents. “No, I’m good, I think.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Byunghun,” Hyukjae said as he made his way out. He glanced at his phone again, texting Donghae that he really is on his way. 

Byunghun asked him again for his time, and Hyukjae relented. He felt Donghae’s longing gaze as he walked with Byunghun, feeling a little bit guilty for leaving him again. However, he had forgotten about it when he started playing with Byunghun again. Both of them had completed their drafts, so the only thing left to do was for them to keep playing it, and revising it to their satisfaction. 

Hyukjae will never be satisfied. Maybe that’s why he had a lot of unfinished compositions. It was a relief that he even managed to finish one. It’s just a lot of ideas keep coming up to him, but he never really followed through. 

He listened closely to Byunghun’s music, and watched his expressions as he played a lovely song, the kind you hear when you’re walking through a field of grass, while the setting sun slowly kisses the horizon. It was that peaceful. 

When he finished, he couldn’t utter a word. 

How he wished that he could convey that kind of mood. He had to wonder-he would need to ask Donghae how he makes him feel. 

He knew it was bad that he was doubting himself at such a crucial time, but no one really reviewed his pieces other than Donghae. No one critiqued him as hard as his professor.

“Are you okay?” Byunghun asked him. 

Hyukjae snapped away from his thoughts, and he looked at Byunghun properly. “Yeah, of course.”

Byunghun walked towards him, his shoes thudding against the carpeted floor muddily. “You look pale.”

Hyukjae slightly frowned, and he looked away when Byunghun leaned closer to his personal space. 

“The professor treating you fine?” Byunghun asked. 

Hyukjae clenched his fist. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

Byunghun checked his eyes. “You sure? I know he can be a jerk, since he really rejected some of us who wanted to get some of his time.”

Hyukjae tried to calm his heart, which was slamming against his ribcage. 

“Maybe he has a thing for you,” Byunghun suggested, glancing down at his lips. “But…who wouldn’t, right?”

Byunghun leaned forward, until Hyukjae can feel his breath on him. 

“You’re a special thing, Hyukjae,” Byunghun murmured. 

Hyukjae snapped to his senses when he felt Byunghun’s lips brush against his. He yelped and pushed Byunghun back roughly, and glared at the other man. His throat felt constricted, as he moved to the farther side of the piano room. 

“What the fuck?!” Hyukjae shouted. He felt his whole face becoming heated.

Byunghun smirked, noticing the growing blush on his pale features. Then he turned serious, his voice rigid as if he's gritting his teeth. “You wouldn’t get it,” he said. “But we’re the same. We’re just two insignificant people in this world, unless we make it big. Music? What’s that, right?”

Hyukjae stood frozen, watching as Byunghun packed his things. 

“Break a leg, Hyukjae,” Byunghun said as he exited the piano room. 

Hyukjae felt his legs give, and he fell to the floor. He stopped himself from planting his face to the ground by pressing his palms against the carpeted floor. He suddenly felt his wrists jolt with pain, and he immediately crumpled to himself. 

He gives himself a few moments, trying his best to calm his breathing, then he stormed out of the piano room. 

Donghae was setting the dinner table in peace, with some random classical music playing in the background. He was still in his work clothes, sans the matching jacket. His sleeves were folded all the way to his elbows, displaying the veins crisscrossing on his arms. All the lights were turned on, setting a brown, cozy feel to his house. He poured the food on a big bowl-homemade ramen down to its noodles-and then sat down to admire his handiwork. He didn’t want Hyukjae eating more processed foods, so he made all the ingredients, and bought the freshest he could find. 

While waiting for Hyukjae, he finished grading all of the midterm projects, and then sat down in front of the steamy bowl, listening to a recording of him playing his new music. It is almost complete. He just needs to find a way to finish it. He could either end it grandly, or end it in a way that it just fades into silence.

Suddenly, the door of his house bangs open. Donghae looked up, a smile appearing on his features willingly, but he froze, when he saw Hyukjae’s state. He was heaving really hard, and there was an icy glare on his features. 

“Are you almost finished with your composition?” Hyukjae demanded desperately, marching towards him quickly. “Donghae, tell me.”

Donghae searched his face in concern. “Hyukjae, what happened?”

“Please, just tell me,” Hyukjae choked out. 

Donghae slowly reached for him, but Hyukjae flinched away. 

“Someone just tried to kiss me,” Hyukjae blurted out, his fingers going up to his head, as if he was just about to tear out his own hair. “Someone, who’s just as brilliant as me-“

Donghae felt himself closing up again, felt his walls come up slowly, as Hyukjae cursed in front of him. 

“Just say something!” Hyukjae shouted, completely unhinged. Tears streamed down his face continuously. 

Donghae watched him, his heart not wanting to admit that there’s pain. He didn’t understand what was happening, but if this is about Hyukjae, and if the younger felt trapped with him, then maybe… 

“You know,” he started, hating the hard voice that came out. He didn’t even recognize it himself. “You should probably meet boys your age, then. If that’s what you’re trying to tell me.”

Hyukjae growled out of frustration, and he took out Donghae’s pieces from the bookshelves. His slender fingers ghosted over them after he threw them over the grand piano.

“You don’t understand!” Hyukjae yelled, his voice raw and hurt. He slammed his hand on one of the books. “I did! He’s right here!” 

Donghae stared at his older compositions, published when he was around Hyukjae’s age. 

“He’s right here!” Hyukjae cried, his tone almost accusing. “You-you, always you!” 

Donghae was still trying to figure out whether he needs to be upset…or elated. “Hyukjae-“

“I met you, and now there is no one else. Don't you know that you're the young boy I met?” Hyukjae suddenly grew quiet, and he hastily wiped the tears from his face. “So I beg you, are you almost finished?”

Donghae treaded carefully towards Hyukjae, a smile slowly flitting on his mouth. There was no need for his walls. He didn’t need protecting. He pushed them away so that he can bring Hyukjae inside his arms. Hyukjae was a fire, a force that pushed all the darkness away. There was no need to place him away as far as possible, although, Donghae was not sure he could live with that. 

Donghae kissed his temple, pressing his lips against it for a long time. 

“I will finish it, okay?” Donghae murmured, and he felt Hyukjae’s arms around him tighten. “I won’t let you go that easily.”

Hyukjae sat down in front of the grand piano, his posture tense as his fingers hovered over the tiles. Donghae washed the dishes, keeping an eye out for his student, who still seemed to be deeply perturbed. It didn’t bother him that someone had kissed Hyukjae. He knew from the beginning that Hyukjae would probably want more than him, but he didn’t expect Hyukjae to flat out choose him, knowing nothing about the future. He was still young, and he was still beginning to put his foot into the world, but it was so easy for Hyukjae to demand him of his love and time. 

Again, he felt really flattered. And he is falling deeper and deeper for Hyukjae, who saw something in him, from long ago and even now. 

Donghae finally finished the dishes, when he hears Hyukjae playing on the piano softly. He paused in his spot, wiping his hands dry. 

Hyukjae is playing the new composition that he’s working on, but something feels different. Donghae wrote about his desperation to come alive, but there’s Hyukjae, playing it for him, begging him desperately to never let him go. The haunting notes switched to a more insisting feeling, which was different to how Donghae played it; he played it in a constricting way, as if he couldn’t breathe, and he is clawing his way up from where he is buried. 

Then, Hyukjae builds up a momentum: he hits the crescendo to the highlight of the song, his hands banging on the tiles, and his body moving along and as each accent on top of the note required more of his emotions. The melody comes out lovingly-the point to all of this, _amoroso_\- and Donghae wanted to jump up in joy. This was it. Everything he had worked for, had struggled for, it has come to this. _To him_.

Donghae was lost in his thoughts, not realizing that Hyukjae had stopped playing. 

“How are you going to end this?” Hyukjae asked, leaning his jaw on the piano rack. 

Donghae has his answer, right there, in front of him. Hyukjae's eyes are imploring, searching him, and Donghae, without a shadow of a doubt, knows that his eyes are the only spotlight that he will ever need.

That night, when Hyukjae was deep in his sleep, Donghae wrote the ending madly. His hand raced across the paper, and he abused the piano tiles without end, his mind only focused on Hyukjae. 

He was his ending-his final rest. 

This music is his testimony. He fucked in these sheets, these notes born out of unheard, wild cries inside four walls; from the love shared between him and Hyukjae. 

His mind always go back to him, only him, and his clever fingers over ivory keys framed with the thin, obsidian tiles. Hyukjae will be the one to play out his greatness. He knows by heart what Hyukjae will be good at, he has memorized which emotions suit his style, and he writes it all down, note by note. 

He paints a picture of his lover through his music, his essence, his every touch. If he can’t proclaim to the world his love for this man, he will have them hear the most scandalous music without them even knowing. He will blindside them, let out his wrath to those who brought him down to his lowest, and he will leave them wondering who, just who was this piece dedicated to, that he pours all his life effort into?

He wants them to be a witness right under their noses, and he wants to show them that love comes through without rules. There is no restraint-with him loving, he goes all in. 

Donghae has been unhinged, by an all-consuming fire. 

So he fucked these sheets to come alive. He fucked these sheets to breathe, and he breathes one name only: Lee Hyukjae, the sweetest, loveliest, fire of his life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Cadenza" is an improvised solo piece, usually rhythmic.
> 
> "Accent" is a sign to make a note stand out; so there will be notes with this sign > on top of it, and that indicates that the piano player should emphasize it.
> 
> Thank you for reading, as always. And it's not proofread, I apologize. Also, when I was brainstorming for this fic, the last bit was one of the first scenes I wrote, so I'm glad that it got included here. It seemed poetic at the time, but I also thought, they were having an affair with music, so, why not.
> 
> almost done, i hope the finale will do this fic justice
> 
> Do let me know your thoughts :)


	7. Fine

The soft afternoon light filtered in, casting a pink, golden hue on the living room. The atmosphere was serene, an instigator for yawns and long, lazy stretches. It enclosed the two lovers in their secret place, their home, and their safety to bask into each other's presence.

Donghae grinned, his eyes lighting up crazily. Hyukjae was madly typing on his laptop, leaning on the other side of the couch, tongue between the corner of his lips. Donghae kept glancing at Hyukjae playfully, torn between interrupting him or letting him work. He brought his legs on top the couch, and gently nudged Hyukjae’s feet. 

Hyukjae only ignores him, continuing to type on his laptop. 

Donghae bit his lower lip, but he was unable to stop the giddy smile taking over his features. It wrinkles the corners of his eyes, and his cheeks are pushed up, exposing his teeth. 

Hyukjae sighed heavily, and looked away from his laptop. “What?” He inquired, mildly annoyed. 

Donghae kept on staring at Hyukjae with his wide grin, and Hyukjae frowned. 

“What? You’re creeping me out!” Hyukjae snapped. 

Donghae kicked Hyukjae’s legs, heels planting against the younger’s, and toes smashing against each other. Hyukjae, still a little miffed, kicked Donghae back, knocking his legs off the couch. 

“Donghae-”

Donghae pulled Hyukjae’s legs towards him, and Hyukjae held on to his dear laptop tightly. 

“I have to thank you,” Donghae announced happily. His joy left no room for any more sadness.

Hyukjae raised an eyebrow, carefully setting his laptop down to the floor. “For?”

Donghae tugged Hyukjae’s legs again, and the younger follows by sitting up and sliding into his lap. Hyukjae straddles him, with Donghae’s hands caressing his sides, and rubbing his waist. 

“Just…I really want to thank you,” Donghae sincerely said, meeting Hyukjae’s eyes. 

Hyukjae finally smiled, the corner of his mouth going up. “Why? I should be the one thanking you.”

Donghae shook his head, and he took Hyukjae’s hands into his. Without breaking eye contact, he brings Hyukjae’s palms to his mouth, and planted kisses on them. 

“I finished the song,” Donghae told him, and he watched as Hyukjae’s eyes widen. 

Hyukjae suddenly felt the need to breathe in sharply, as he watched Donghae press a kiss on the inside of his wrist. This seemed more intimate than the other hot kisses that they have shared, and Hyukjae felt shaken down to his core. 

They were always in the heat of passion, desperate to spend the small amount of time they have with each other. However, now, they can do whatever they want. 

Donghae shifted, gently laying Hyukjae down on the couch. “I would be a fool, if I let you go. So, I'm going to give one last chance to back out of this.”

Hyukjae holds Donghae’s face with both hands. “I don’t want an out. We don’t have to stop.”

Donghae leans forward, slowly kissing his single eyelids, his cheeks, and finally, his mouth. “You flatter me, Hyukjae.”

The two smiled into their kiss, their teeth crashing against each other gently. Hyukjae giggles, only to moan when Donghae’s mouth wanders down. 

Every sound he makes is music to Donghae’s ears. He continues to play him out, undressing him, with his fingers crawling up and down his lithe torso. Every stroke was a melody that keeps Donghae on his toes-it sends goosebumps down his spine. Donghae feels himself bursting with more inspiration, as his heart drowns in Hyukjae. _Hyukjae_. Every thought points to him. 

He was so, so in love. 

Hyukjae threw his things across the floor, separating his papers one by one to make sure that he’s not missing anything. He also unearthed Donghae’s folders on the coffee table, flipping through each paper carefully. His mind was from spinning from hysteria. It was late at night already, but nothing would calm his mind other than finding his missing music sheets. Donghae was also helping him search by sorting through his own compositions, and also through other students’ papers just in case. 

Hyukjae was going mad, racking his brain where he might have displaced his own compositions. He was out of ideas. And he was also so tired. 

Hyukjae sank to the floor, defeated. 

Donghae wanted to make things right for him. “Hey, maybe it’s in your dorm?”

Hyukjae shook his head. “Most of my things are here,” he reasoned. “All my important assignments…” He lets out a frustrated cry. “Nothing should be missing.”

Hyukjae’s fists tightened, and he gritted his teeth. “Fuck my life,” he said in a low tone. 

Donghae quickly approached him, and pulls him into his arms. “Hey, we’ll find it. Don’t worry.”

Hyukjae shook his head, pushing Donghae away. He doesn’t need to be held right now. He felt so angry at himself, for losing something so important. This isn’t like him. Not at all. He’s always the type to have everything under control, even amidst his mess. 

Donghae felt distraught. He didn’t know how to comfort Hyukjae at this moment, and it made him feel guilty. Hyukjae always knew how to make him feel better, and he knew the right words to say in any situation. He felt dumb, but he sat in front of Hyukjae anyway. He didn’t know what else to do, but he will be right here for him. Whatever he needs. 

The longer he sat in front of Hyukjae, the more he began to understood him. He was like this once. Hyukjae had always fought for his autonomy, and he was used to only depending on himself. He was always alone, with no one to turn to, so he probably felt the need to get everything in order so that he wouldn’t miss a thing. 

Donghae placed his hand on his knee, heavy and reassuring. “I know you want to solve this on your own,” he softly begins, “but I’m here. Remember when you said you used to talk to me when you felt alone?”

Hyukjae finally looks up at him, his gaze meeting his intensely. 

“Will you please talk to me? We will find your sheets, okay?” Donghae reassured, hoping that he can break through Hyukjae’s frustration. 

There is so much pain in Hyukjae’s eyes, and Donghae wanted to slap himself for being so blind. They were both suffering, but he failed to help Hyukjae, when he was the one who uplifted him. Not only did he fail as his mentor, but also as his lover. 

There is still so much to figure out. 

Though, there were no more deadlines for the two of them. They can finally take their time. 

“Okay,” Hyukjae murmured, relinquishing a part of him that he had held on to so tightly. It won’t get any easier, but piece by piece, he can let go this torturous part of himself and fully fall into Donghae’s arms. “Okay.”

Hyukjae’s missing music sheets turn up on Donghae’s desk a month prior before the recital. Donghae frowned at it, unable to form a conclusion as to why it got here. Henry barges in the empty classroom, the case of his violin bumping against the threshold. 

Donghae snatched the papers off his desk, and hastily slipped it into his briefcase. He knows that Hyukjae will be ecstatic that his papers are not lost. 

“I heard you’re composing again!” Henry exclaimed. 

Donghae sighed tiredly. _Siwon_. “That…asshole.”

Henry’s eyebrows shoot up to his forehead. “That’s great!! The Lee Donghae is making a comeback!”

“It’s not like that,” Donghae muttered. 

“It’s a big deal!”

Henry grinned, and Donghae couldn’t help reciprocating. 

“Yeah, but just…don’t spread it okay? It’s not ready,” Donghae fumbled for his words. Performing something from his heart suddenly made him nervous. This piece is very special to him. 

Henry smirked knowingly. “I guess it worked, didn’t it? Hm?”

Donghae resisted the urge to blush, but he felt his ears and neck growing hot. 

Henry cackled. “Donghae! This is amazing!” He exclaimed. “We need to celebrate!” 

Henry takes out his violin from its case, and he drags Donghae to the piano. 

“What will it be?” Henry asked, his body straightening up to accommodate his instrument. 

Donghae checks his repertoire. He finds his hands over the piano, and he begins to play Chopin’s Etude, “Waterfall” in C Major. 

Henry was surprised at the sudden cheerful song, and he struggles to follow as Donghae cheerfully moved from one scale to the next. The hops of the bass sounded like someone skipping for joy, and each higher octave seemed like a dance. Henry could only watch, as the old Lee Donghae, no, not the old, but a better one, displayed himself in front of him. 

The world is holding its breath, anticipating for what greatness he holds. 

Donghae was alone tonight, since Hyukjae wanted to spend time with his friends. However, for the first time, he didn’t feel like he was suffocating. He knew Hyukjae will be back soon, and that was his comfort. 

To occupy his time, he starts to write a new composition, and it comes to him so easily now. He is actually so thrilled to feel the paper underneath his hand, and to hold on to the solidness of the piano tiles. 

He only needs to think of Hyukjae, and the notes come out as easily as breathing. 

For the first time in a long time, he felt complete. 

Music turns the world around. That’s what he believed. Day and night, ever since he has been introduced to music, he had tried his best to learn more about it, and how to play it well. He has big hopes for the future, so he excelled in every challenge that was thrown his way. If opportunities were not available for him, he did his best so that he could grab them for himself. He had promised himself that he will come out on top, that people will look at him in awe, and that he will hear the crowd that he deserved. 

However, nothing about him is good enough. 

What did they have that he doesn’t? Why did _he_ deserved more than him? 

Did the universe played a game of spin the wheel to see who they can give luck to? 

At the end of the day, it may just be music. Though, why does it seem like everything? 

He thinks about all of this, as he stared at his hands stationed themselves above the piano keys. 

Everyone’s eyes will be on him. 

While Hyukjae is now busy with preparing for the piano recital, Donghae grudgingly updated Siwon about his progress on making music. Donghae already wrote two more complete pieces, and he just couldn’t seem to stop. Everyday, new ideas kept popping up in his head, sometimes even interfering with whatever he was doing. He would be washing the dishes, and he would have the urge to drop everything and race to the grand piano to play it out. He would even get a lot of ideas in the shower as well-which was a notorious space for such things-and would end up humming a random melody that he would later write down on paper. 

While Donghae and Hyukjae are respectively occuped, they make an effort after all the work from the day has been cleared, to always come together at the end to touch base. Sometimes, they would talk for hours, learning about each other and discussing the deeper meaning of life, and other interesting things that required arguments. Sometimes, there was no need for words as they busy themselves with tasting and feeling up each other, looking for any opportunity to make love to each other. 

Donghae could not imagine what days before Hyukjae was like anymore. He couldn’t imagine not loving him any less, or falling out of love, like he did with music. 

Hyukjae is the music that turns his world. 

“I’m really nervous,” Hyukjae told him one night, flush and naked beside him. 

Donghae pulls him closer to his body, if that was even possible. “How come?”

“For starters, my family will be there. My father will be there,” Hyukjae said, as if it was just dawning on him. “What if he thinks that I wasn’t good enough on stage?” 

Donghae ponders at this for a moment. “You will be.”

“How are you so sure?” Hyukjae asks, turning to his side to watch Donghae’s side profile. 

Donghae glanced at Hyukjae with a small smile. “You’re already so extraordinary. I have not seen anyone like you for a while. There's no one like you.”

Hyukjae props himself up on his elbow. “Are you serious?”

Donghae nods and he gives Hyukjae a cheeky smile. “And I taught you.”

“Oh, wow, so it’s about you,” Hyukjae teased. 

Donghae collected his thoughts, and then he turned to his side to meet Hyukjae’s eyes. “Not only do you play what’s on paper, but you also play what the music is saying. Of course, you have your own style, but instead of you just playing the instrument, you let the music guide you, and speak through you. You let it take over, and use you.”

Hyukjae blinked. “I…that sounds a bit awful.”

Donghae chuckled, and he adjusted his position when Hyukjae placed his head on his chest. “No, no it’s not. You’re willing to put yourself out there, and that’s really admirable.”

“Okay, Donghae,” Hyukjae murmured, unknowingly pouting. 

“And you won’t be like me,” Donghae added, his hand moving up and down Hyukjae's back. “You won’t grow jaded.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, because I’m here.”

Hyukjae scoffed playfully, hitting his stomach. “It _is _about you.”

Donghae takes his other hand, and smooths the hair away from Hyukjae's eyes. “No, it’s about _you. _You have me. When you finish your performance, and when the crowd stops cheering, I’ll still be there for you. I will not leave you alone. You have me.”

Hyukjae smiled, and he buried himself in Donghae’s embrace. Everyone’s eyes will be on him, but the only pair of eyes that matters will stay beside him. His applause will only be directed towards him, which is a little bit scandalous, in his opinion. He would be using the crowd to cheer for him in his own way. He could have the world, but the world is nothing if he can’t have Donghae. No one has fought for him so hard before, and he is willing to do the same for him. 

“You have me, too,” Hyukjae tells Donghae, giving him a kiss on his collarbone. “As long as you would have me.” 

Hyukjae takes a deep breath, taking his time to pull the air into his lungs through his nose, and exhaling through his mouth. Behind the thick, red velvet curtains were the gathering crowd, slowly finding their seats in the spacious university theater. He continued to peek, trying to catch sight of his family among other faces. Just below the stage were the cameramen, setting up their devices. Some people were doing the last minute sound and light checks, and Hyukjae watched them scramble around to get this show to start. 

Hyukjae spotted Donghae in a black suit, his hair swept back handsomely. He wore a conservative smile, and he immediately felt smug that he gets to see a different smile from him. He politely greets the important people coming his way, and then a camera comes up to him, in which he talks to it awkwardly. Hyukjae notices how his head moves around, searching for a way to escape the camera. In a few moments, he was free of it, and proceeded to greet the other people in the front row. 

Hyukjae recognized Kyuhyun among the people Donghae greeted, and he chuckles in amusement when Donghae’s eyes widened from something Kyuhyun whispered to him. 

He really would have to thank Kyuhyun later. He would have never had a chance to get closer to him, or maybe he did. He would never know. Life is kinda funny that way.

Finally, he spotted his family, his parents in their regal wear, and Sungmin and his fiancé in matching colors, moving into their seats in the middle row. When they were seated, his father got up a few times when some people recognized him. He watched him shake hands with them, and Sungmin also did the same, following his father's footsteps.

Hyukjae could already feel the pressure building up, making his movements jittery, and his heart consistently rammed against his chest. He wasn’t sure if he was nervous or excited. He was afraid of his father’s judgement, but most of all, he was afraid of not achieving his dreams. 

This is it for him. It feels like a death sentence, but he swears he will give it his all to live.

The lighting changes, signaling that the recital is officially beginning. Hyukjae moves away from the curtains, and he commands himself to calm down. He spots his classmates walking around, chatting noisily and waiting for their names to be called. 

Hyukjae peeks from behind the curtains again, spotting Henry walking across the stage jovially, with cue cards in one hand, and his mic on the other. 

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he announces, his voice sounding like he just found something funny and would very much like to retell the joke. “Welcome to the annual recital of Lee Donghae’s class. I would like to thank you all for coming out tonight, to witness the talent that he nurtured in these students. I hope that you all enjoy this night, and without further ado, I would like to call up the first performer…”

Hyukjae walked away from the curtain, knowing that he’ll be one of the last ones to go. He warily glanced at Byunghun, who was also one of the last performers, sitting with his elbows on his thighs. There was a grim look on his face, and when he straightened up, Hyukjae quickly looks away. He does not want to remember what he did to him. 

Hyukjae couldn’t hear the performer just beyond the curtains, as his thoughts begin to rush at him. He didn’t notice that his knee was bouncing up and down until Donghae mindlessly sat beside him, looking very unbothered. Hyukjae felt his skin tingle, and finally, he can identify his jittery feelings as excitement. He swears that he felt Donghae’s fingers graze against his thigh, but the sensation was too quick, he didn’t have time to fully register. 

The next performer was called, and Donghae stood up, peeking through the curtains, and then going further backstage. 

Hyukjae glanced at his classmates, but none of them pays him any attention. Being carefully with the way he walks, he follows where Donghae was heading. Passing other crew members and bowing to them out of respect, he struggles to see where Donghae disappeared to. He goes further into a darker area where the people are thinning to take care of more important business, when he suddenly felt a hand around his arm. 

Hyukjae resisted the urge to yelp in surprise, but he follows Donghae’s silhouette towards the restrooms nonetheless. 

Once they were inside the stalls, Hyukjae grinned, his heart still racing inside his chest. 

“You look very sexy,” Hyukjae compliments when Donghae faced him. He stepped closer, and puts his hand on Donghae’s arms, groping the muscles there. “This suit really hugs you in all the right places.” 

Donghae smiles, a little shy. “You look very handsome as well.”

Hyukjae glances at his own outfit. He didn’t do much with his hair, and just left it down. He was wearing all black, and his slacks were loose around his legs. 

“Thanks, I dress to impress,” Hyukjae said, in a charming singsong.

“It seems like you didn’t even try,” Donghae retorted. 

“Oh shut up,” Hyukjae snapped playfully, closing the gap between them. He takes the collar of Donghae’s jacket, and pushes him into one of the stalls. 

Donghae’s hands automatically placed themselves around Hyukjae’s waist, gripping them to give him a sense of comfort. “How are you feeling?”

“Really nervous, excited...maybe.”

“I told you not to worry,” Donghae says, leaning to kiss Hyukjae’s lips. 

“How can I not? I’m a college student. I’m pretty unstable.”

Donghae chuckles, and he kisses Hyukjae again, this time, pressing his lips into his sweetly, molding into him. They kiss slowly, with Donghae trapping Hyukjae’s wandering hands down. 

When they break away from each other, Hyukjae’s eyes glinted mischievously. 

“No,” Donghae weakly says, already having an idea of what Hyukjae may be up to. 

Hyukjae pouts. “But it’s the bathroom. And it’s dirty, and anyone can walk in.”

“Exactly,” Donghae reasons, although he was already entertaining the idea. 

“We’ll be quick,” Hyukjae promises, already latching his fingers against Donghae’s belt. 

Donghae grinned, stopping Hyukjae’s hands. “I have a better idea.” 

“Oh? My old man has something up his sleeve?” Hyukjae taunts. 

Donghae rolled his eyes. “Stop calling me old, we’re not that far apart.”

“Now that’s a lie.”

Donghae pulled Hyukjae closer to him, and slowly grinds against him. “If you can get away after the recital, come to my house and we’ll celebrate.”

“Don’t frustrate me now, if we're going to do anything, let's do it,” Hyukjae pleaded. “Have you forgotten, my parents are out there?”

Donghae smirked, but then his expression softens. “Look at me.”

Hyukjae met his eyes, watching how the light reflects off of his very dark brown irises. Though he looks solemn, there was a childish giddiness in there. 

“When you go up there,” Donghae began. “You will do amazing. The people will love you. They will clap and give you a standing ovation. Your father will be glad that he attended.”

Hyukjae fell silent. 

“I will be right there watching you too. After you, I will be performing,” Donghae continues. “Know that I dedicated my piece to you. We’re all that matters.”

Hyukjae leaned forward, and locked Donghae’s lips against his, stealing any room for him to take a breath. When he pulled away, they both gasped for air. Hyukjae leaned his forehead against Donghae’s chin, and then wrapped his arms around him. 

Donghae stood there in awe. Truly, everything about Hyukjae amazes him.

“Thank you,” Hyukjae murmured. 

While Henry entertained the audience, the next performer, Park Byunghun, prepared himself to walk onstage. Hyukjae sneakily made his way to his previous seat, while Donghae followed a little bit later, his face indifferent. His skin felt like it was on fire though, the urge to touch Donghae growing even more. However, he needed to focus again. He would be performing very soon. 

Hyukjae stared at particularly nothing, listening to the mediocre prelude that Byunghun is playing. Then, it started to sound familiar. His head snaps up as he tunes in with concentration, and he realizes why it sounded so familiar. 

He was the one who wrote this music, but Byunghun added his own flavor in it. 

Hyukjae felt like he was going to hurl everything he ate today on the spot in front of him. His heart had dropped to his stomach, and he felt cold and numb all over. 

Most of all, he felt so hurt. And so done. 

What is he supposed to do now?

He can’t back out. His dreams are on the line. His family is out there. 

Why is he so close, but so far? 

Hyukjae felt his legs dragging him somewhere. He is starting to get a little winded, even though he had probably taken a few steps only. Someone catches him before he goes to the ground, and he gets a brief recollection of a door swinging shut. 

“Hyukjae,” Donghae’s sturdy voice called him. 

Hyukjae gasped for breath, and then he felt Donghae’s tight embrace around him. 

“He…” Hyukjae lets out. 

“Shh,” Donghae comforts. “Breathe.”

Hyukjae’s body shook as he resisted the urge to sob. 

“Hyukjae.” 

Hyukjae could only gape into the dark space in front of him. He desperately forced air into his lungs. 

“Hyukjae, it’s all right.”

Hyukjae’s face crumpled, and he felt hot tears flowing down his face. 

“Shh,” Donghae murmured into his ear. Then, he reluctantly pushes Hyukjae back. “It’s all right. I will take care of it, okay?”

Hyukjae nodded, still a little out of it. He could only gape at Donghae. 

“Hey,” Donghae calls him again. “We’ll take care of it.”

“But what about my recital?” Hyukjae blurted out. “That’s all I have, Donghae. That’s all _I_ have! I can’t-“ Hyukjae wheezes, trying to calm himself. He is aware that he probably sounded selfish, no matter how many times Donghae emphasized that they will be working out everything together. “I can’t disappoint my family!”

Donghae caressed his face. “You won’t disappoint them.”

Hyukjae glared at Donghae, who is still not making sense to him. He was ready to shout at him. 

However, Donghae quickly kissed him on the lips. 

Then, Donghae takes a deep breath, and he looked around, trying to come up with a plan. He felt Hyukjae trembling under his hold, and the only thought that resounded in his heart was him. Lee Hyukjae. 

“Play the new piece I wrote,” Donghae suggested, his fingers gripping Hyukjae’s arms. “It has yet to have a title, and I was going to reveal it today, but…just play it.”

Hyukjae’s eyes widen. “What? Donghae, I can’t. That’s your music. I’m no better than Byunghun,” Hyukjae reasoned, incredulous. 

“But I give you my permission,” Donghae said calmly. He now knows that this is the right thing to do. He felt peace in his heart. “Play my piece, Hyukjae. You know it like the back of your hand, you’ve listened to me play. You have played that piece a hundred times. You play it.”

Hyukjae stared into Donghae’s eyes in bewilderment, but he could feel his love radiating and encompassing him. Is this how it feels to have someone? 

“Let’s go,” Donghae pushes Hyukjae out of the storage room, and immediately claps bursted from the audience. 

Hyukjae felt light-headed, as Donghae motioned for Henry to come backstage, arranging the sudden changes to the performances. He watched him, helpless. 

Hyukjae walked to the side to view the stage. He felt Donghae’s hand on his lower back, and then felt it disappear. It all becomes real, when Henry’s voice begin to address the audience. 

“Ladies and gentleman, this is Lee Hyukjae, and his title piece, ‘With Love,’” Henry announced grandly. 

Hyukjae walks across the stage, petrified. The audience is silent, expectant. His shoes thuds against the wooden stage loudly, making him feel even more alone. He felt the music’s notes slipping away from his mind, like he would when grappling for a faded dream. 

It felt excruciatingly slow when he finally seated himself in front of the piano, still completely bewildered, but as he lays his hands on top of the keys, it all comes rushing to him at once: Donghae’s skin against his, hot lips on the nape of his neck as they filled each other, over and over. 

From the beginning, it starts out mellowly. Hyukjae can feel Donghae’s sadness, the loneliness that he felt. It was haunting, and he felt like breaking down. It even sounded angry, and Hyukjae’s heart felt like it was breaking. Then, it begins to lighten up, the key changing slightly to less sharps and flats. It sounded like someone walking through a path where orange, red and brown leaves are falling everywhere. It was calm, and a little bit hopeful, like a waltz, where one is facing a partner that they found among a crowd. 

Then it builds intensely. The partners are now dancing, avoiding each other’s glances but also checking each other out like they have no choice. Their skins are upon each other, only a layer of clothing between them. Their breaths intermingled as their faces close, and suddenly, Hyukjae’s body follows the crescendo, the moment where the partners are more than involved in a dance. It sounded like a sudden, but lovely fall. 

Hyukjae is no longer just Hyukjae. He was playing out Donghae’s piece, his greatness. 

It was no longer just about them, but the two of them. 

Donghae watched Hyukjae play, his heart bursting with pride. He could not do this piece justice. Only Hyukjae can portray him like this. 

Hyukjae nears the end of the piece, madly racing across the tiles. It was fiery, like his heart for Hyukjae. He could not write it as a dwindling ending. He could only write his hopes for the future, and his breathtaking love for him. 

Hyukjae ends virtuosically, his hands lifting from the keys elegantly, but still so seducing. The crowd explodes in a jubilant applause, and Donghae grins from the side. 

Hyukjae slowly stood up, and he faced the crowd with tears in his eyes. One by one, they stood up, their claps growing in volume. 

He bows to his audience, his only way of humbling himself and showing his gratefulness. It was warm up here on the stage, with the spotlight shining only on him, and the way the audience is giving him all of their love. 

It felt like forever. 

Donghae and Henry come up to the stage after the audience had calmed down. Hyukjae felt like he was about to fly away any second now. Adrenaline was coursing through him, and he still felt the rumbling applause in his bones. 

“Good evening everyone,” Donghae greeted the audience. “I am gladly announcing that I’m making a comeback. I was going to reveal a piece that I wrote, but since it has been a long time, I am really nervous, and forgot my music pieces back at my home. However, I do have a backup. I hope that you all enjoy it, and that you leave this theater with only good memories.”

Donghae cleared his throat. “And without further ado, this song I’m going to play is an etude called Ocean, by Frederic Chopin.”

Donghae hands the mic to Henry, and he sits himself on the piano bench. Henry hurries out of the stage, and then suddenly, Donghae bangs on the piano, the lower bass notes rumbling like a storm. It was very much an ocean, angry, dark, its currents violent as it pulls and pushes. Then it grows soft, like a gentle tide lapping against sandy shore. 

In the backstage, Hyukjae still has trouble wrapping his head around the events that just happened, but he spotted Byunghun pacing back and forth. 

Hyukjae sobers up, his anger bubbling back up to the surface, and he marches towards his classmate. 

“You fucking jerk,” Hyukjae coldly snapped. His joy from performing was drowned away, and all he wants is to give Byunghun a piece of his mind. 

As Donghae plays in the background, Hyukjae lunges at Byunghun, an impossible rage coming out of him. Donghae’s playing drowns out every sound, but Hyukjae could hear his fist connect with Byunghun’s face. 

Then, Hyukjae was pushed back, and Byunghun jumps at him. The other man grabs his shirt, and slams him against a wall. Byunghun traps Hyukjae, an arm over his neck. 

“Why?” Hyukjae gasped. 

“Why?” Byunghun repeated, livid. “What did you have that I didn’t? What made him look at you? I was perfect! Why do you deserve more than me? What did you do to deserve _him_?” 

Hyukjae tore Byunghun’s arm from his neck, only to be slammed back against the wall. 

“Byunghun-“ Hyukjae puts his strength into pushing Byunghun’s body away from him. “I don’t deserve many things! You’re right. What did I do to deserve him?” 

Byunghun was suddenly pulled away from him, and suddenly, Donghae was right in front of him, his hands on his face, examining him for any injuries. 

Henry held back Byunghun, whose tears are now flowing out of his eyes. 

“Henry, contact the dean of the university for me,” Donghae commanded, his voice hard. 

Hyukjae gathered his senses, and he takes away Donghae’s hands from his face. “I-“

Donghae gazes at him with concern. 

“Byunghun, I’m sorry,” Hyukjae blurted out. “I-“

Byunghun shook his head. “Save it. He will always take your side.”

Hyukjae looked at Donghae, pleading with him as Henry took Byunghun away. The other people backstage could only watch the scene with curiosity. 

“Don’t,” Hyukjae tells Donghae. “Don’t do that to him. Don’t ruin him.”

“Hyukjae, he stole your piece. That’s…plagiarism.”

“Donghae, please. He…we’re all alike. We’re all just trying to make it,” Hyukjae’s voice grows quiet. “Just…if I meant anything to you, please listen to me.”

Donghae opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted. 

“Hyukjae!” 

Hyukjae heard Sungmin’s voice, and he quickly stepped away from Donghae. Hyukjae’s whole family was there, including his father, who looked very pleased. His mother was in tears, dabbing her eyes carefully with a silk handkerchief. 

“Hyukjae, what the hell?!” Sungmin exclaimed happily. “That was some…Mozart or Beethoven shit you just pulled!”

Hyukjae giggled as he was buried into Sungmin’s arms. He closed his eyes in relief as he reciprocated his brother’s hug. 

“Good job, little bro,” Sungmin tells him. 

Sungmin lets go of Hyukjae, and nudges him closer to their parents. 

“So?” Hyukjae challenged, feeling more than brave. He puts on a face, even though all he wants is to break down. 

“A deal is a deal,” his father mused. “Good work, son.”

Hyukjae smiled from relief. He was so happy. Everything is falling into place. 

He glanced back at Donghae, and then at his family. 

“Mom, dad, I would like to introduce you to my professor,” Hyukjae suddenly said, taking his mother's hand to lead them towards Donghae. 

Donghae, after his one great comeback, made himself fade into the background, and contented himself working as a music professor. He was all right not having any spotlight; those days are way past him. He would gladly spend the rest of his life writing music pieces that Hyukjae will play. Years later, they are working together side by side. Donghae never wrote another piece for himself, and instead, he collaborated with Hyukjae on many projects. Siwon oversees Hyukjae’s work as well, making sure that he gets the proper recognition by the public. 

Often, they can be seen together. Many speculated on their relationship, but no one can ever confirm anything because on interviews, they have always referred to each other as a good friend. Though inside Donghae’s four walls, it’s a different story. 

The two never married, even after being together for a while, but their lives had entangled with each other so much, that it mirrored a married couple’s life. 

Hyukjae gladly pursued music, aspiring to become a director of some sort, and he even became a pianist for a very known orchestra as a stepping stone. On nights that he played, Donghae would attend, a bouquet of flowers ready to greet him. 

Tonight was not any different. 

Hyukjae finished the show, knowing that Donghae is waiting for him just outside the venue. He heads there quickly, his coat wrapped around him tightly. When he exited, the fresh, autumn air hits him. It also just rained, giving the surroundings a very fresh scent. The pavements are wet and slick, with lights reflecting off of puddles. Street lamps lit the street, their bulbs glowing and guiding a path. 

Donghae and Hyukjae walked side by side, their shoulders almost touching. Their shoes clacked against the pavement, giving them a sense that they are alone. A few times, their shoulders bumped, and the two of them playfully knocked each other aside, making them deviate from their walk. 

“Happy tenth anniversary, by the way,” Donghae murmured to him. A passerby walks past them, whistling a casual tune, but they pay them no mind. 

Hyukjae smiled, pressing a little bit closer to Donghae’s side. “Glad you didn’t leave me for a younger person.” The bouquet of flowers was passed into his hand.

Donghae glanced at Hyukjae, feeling a bit offended. “I could never.”

Hyukjae chuckled, giving Donghae a little bit of space. “I know.”

“By the way, thank you for writing a goddamn composition, or else there would have never been us,” Hyukjae added in good humor. 

Donghae laughs. “You know, I could never let you go like that. I really couldn't imagine living without you."

Hyukjae rolled his eyes. "Such a sap."

Donghae grumbled under his breath. "One more old age joke from you, and I'll kick your ass."

"Oh, but you love my ass," Hyukjae teased, his eyes crinkling from the wide smile his mouth is pushing forward. 

Donghae felt his ears heat with embarrassment. "Shut up."

Hyukjae cackled. "Oh my god, you're such a damn man child. Your true nature is slowly being revealed as you age!"

Donghae grumbled under his breath, but when Hyukjae started laughing, he couldn't help but laugh with him as well. It has been a joy to do everything with him, to share every moment of happiness and sorrow with him. 

Their eyes find each other as they walked side by side, as they would for the rest of their lives. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Fine," pronounced "fee'-nay" translates to finale, the end.
> 
> "Octave" is a set of eight notes, so it can be octave lower or higher, but the same notes are played.
> 
> "Scale" in music is a set of notes that are ordered to pitch, like your do re mi.
> 
> P.S. has anyone noticed that they have not said ily


	8. Author's Notes

**Background/fic things**

When I was seven years old, I started taking piano lessons in the Philippines. However, I had to move to the United States when I was nine, so my piano lessons were halted. In America, my family and I were very poor-we walked to the grocery store to get food, we barely went anywhere. However, my only birthday wish was to continue playing the piano again, and my mom bought me an electric piano, even if it was hard for us. I had no teacher then, and had to teach myself everything about the piano. I didn't know much about technicalities until recently, but I knew how to play. 

Now, I'm 19 lol. I've been playing the piano for more than ten years, and I love it. I love the piano so much. I continue to challenge myself by playing harder pieces by Mozart and Chopin (my favs ><). I started taking formal piano lessons in middle school, and have gotten better, but I still think there's so much for me to learn. I'm never going to stop. 

And I also teach little kids piano, which is also a very rewarding job, because I get to pass on my knowledge and style to them. My hope for my students is that they continue to take piano and advance in it in the future, even if they decide not to pursue music. 

Anyways, moving on to this fic's background. 

I was researching about affairs that composers might have had a long time ago. Then, I found this composer named Benjamin Britten. He supposedly had a relationship with a tenor singer, Peter Pears. He wrote music that suited his voice. He wrote only for him. Throughout the years, the two of them were together for a long time. They stayed by each other's side. Some would even say that their lives mirrored after a married couple. They weren't explicit at all, but you know, people speculate. Also, this was during the 20th century in Britain. They wrote letters to each other, and when I read them, you can really feel the love between them. 

So the theme origins came from there. I was very inspired by them, and I thought that it was really romantic that Britten thought of how his lover's voice would suit his songs. That's just HUAHGUH that's pure romance man TT 

On the music, I had to do a lot of studying on top of my knowledge on music along this fic, because in order to write about music styles and techniques, I had to listen to the songs closely, and read many analyses about them to truly understand them. I also had to read and study about Chopin's music, because a lot of his songs were incorporated in this fic. Of course, I did not get into to much details because I felt like dumping every knowledge I have music in this fic would have been redundant, and exhausting to read. 

I was very worried about how to write the music into words, so that's why, again, I had to listen to Chopin so many times to make sure I get the mood right. Though, how do we ever know what's going on in the composer's mind? When we play music, sometimes, we affect it and influence it, instead of letting the composer shine. However, it's not our fault. We all bring in emotions and our style. We are all different people. 

I'm glad though, that people still found the music parts somewhat clear, I hope it was not too confusing??? lols but I'm happy to clear up anything? I'll do my best.

For some of the music mentioned, I had to learn and play them as well, so it's possible that I had a hand in the way I conveyed the music. 

Also, I had to compose along with Donghae, getting a gist of how I want his piece for Hyukjae to sound like (I'm not a composer btw, I play, I perform-that's it lol). 

Again, I'm so sorry for all the smut lmaoo~~~~ I feel shy just thinking about it heheeeee (it wasn't suppose to be...like that)

I want to add information for that last bit in Cadenza: I went to Spain, and I went to a Picasso museum, and I overheard this dialouge of this lady, she was supposed to be some kind psychic. She was feeling up Picasso's art, and apparently, she was feeling that Picasso was aggressive towards this painting or something and she started yelling "i fucked this painting" 

and i'm like

cooolls

lemme write that down real quick

** Last thoughts and other references **

Anyways, as this note comes to a close, I want to thank everyone again for reading, subcreebing, upvoting and commenting on this fic. I hope that you all could take something from this fic. I'm all for entertaining fics, but it is also a good thing to write something meaningful from time to time. 

I love you all, and I hope that you all enjoyed A Study in Minor. 

Look forward to more of my stories?? lols 

Here's the spotify playlist for all the songs I used, or was inspired from: [A Study in Minor](https://open.spotify.com/user/angelicafowl/playlist/0ZymlrjSpqkWo04Pdb67FY?si=K-BtZx-WShuV4Gqy1H4r8w) (I listened to all of these songs while writing to keep the mood as well hahahaha)

Here are the links I used to study the music: 

[About Rachmaninoff's Prelude in C sharp Minor](http://www.mtosmt.org/issues/mto.11.17.4/mto.11.17.4.bottge.html)

[Music sheets of Rachmaninoff's Prelude in C-sharp Minor](https://www.pianostreet.com/blog/files/rachmaninoff_c_sharp_prelude_booklet_web.pdf)

[Chopin Studies, includes music sheets](http://waltercosand.com/CosandScores/Composers%20A-D/Chopin,%20Frederic/Find_by_Opus_Number/op25_Etudes\(Cortot\).pdf)

[More on Chopin's etudes and his techniques](https://digital.library.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metadc115039/m2/1/high_res_d/Dissertation.pdf)

And here are some music definitions and stuff if you want to look into it: <http://www.robertcarney.net/musical-terms-definitions.htm>

Wherever you are, whenever you are, I hope that you're having a great day, or night. Thank you so much, again.

Love, 

Angelica.

P.S. my online mom [mizu-chan1](https://www.asianfanfics.com/profile/view/1174749) also entered a fic called [Caeleste Daemonium](https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1409475/caeleste-daemonium)

and my friend [lmaohae](https://www.asianfanfics.com/profile/view/1848171) also entered [withered flowers; evanesce](https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1411209) for [Eunhaetopia.](https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1408103/unhaetopia-----writing-contest-registration-is-open-until-dec) They're such talented writers and I want them to get more recognition!!! 

Check them out and send them lots of love!!! 

P.P.S.

I'm going to go back and like...edit and proofread. There may be minor changes. I'm so sad to part ways with this fic though. I really enjoyed writing this, and also the work that came with it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in AFF for the Eunhaetopia Writing Competition.


End file.
